Full summary and important information about the canon divergence:

Draco killed Dumbledore; Severus is therefore still a spy and in the Order's favour. Harry, Hermione and Ron were taken by snatchers, but upon their escape, Hermione was mistakenly left behind in the heat of the moment. Harry in Ron have gone to the Order to ask for help with rescuing Hermione: they are planning a rescue-mission with Severus' aid, as he has inside information.

Leta Watkins is a Death Eater in her late twenties. Her latest task is to convert Hermione Granger in order to later be able to use her as a spy in the Order's camp, as an aid to kill Harry, the Light's symbol of hope, so the Dark Lord will have truly won. Leta is a born manipulator, and has had similar tasks in the past, all of which she successfully completed. However, this time may turn out to be different.

If, when the story is completed or while I'm still posting, any of you still have questions about things that are different in this: do not hesitate to ask.

Chapter 0: Ante Historia

They had been caught by snatchers, brought to Malfoy Manor, and Hermione had been tortured.

Dobby had come to their rescue, they had fought. Upon the chandelier falling down by Dobby's magic, Bellatrix had pulled Hermione back with her, thrown her behind her.

Harry, Ron and Dobby had thought Bellatrix would let Hermione go, and they had stretched out their hand to their friend when the chandelier started to fall.

They had been wrong.

Dobby had apparated them away, just before any of the Death Eaters could stop them with a spell—Harry and Ron couldn't have apparated alone, due to their lack of wands.

Hermione was left behind.

Chapter 1: Introductio

The Dark Lord had won: the Minister was dead, he was in control of the British ministry of Magic, and he would soon conquer other countries. The only thing that was still in his way to absolute victory was the Light side's figure of hope: Harry Potter. He only needed to kill the boy, and he would have truly won.

Leta, being a Death Eater in her late twenties, was pleased by these developments. She was tasked with going to talk to other lands' leaders and mellowing them to the Dark Lord's power, obviously using some magical influence alongside her manipulation techniques to get them to comply more readily.

Today, she was back in Britain for the first time in three weeks. She had been ordered to go to her Lord as soon as she had returned, so she might report on her work and take up eventual new tasks. So when she had dropped off her luggage at her place, freshened up, and donned her Death Eater-garb, she apparated to Headquarters.

At the entrance, she greeted Rosier, who was just exiting, looking worse for wear – likely he had messed up some task or other – but he didn't quite seem to notice her, occupied as he was with trying to walk upright.

Leta heard the cries emanating from the throne room as soon as she entered the building. Untroubled, she steadily walked on, her cloak and her shoulder-length, auburn hair floating behind her. At the door to the main room stood a low-ranking Death Eater whose name she didn't know.

"He's expecting me."

"Go on in, then," the young man replied, gesturing his head to the tall, ornate doors.

She opened the right door with a wave of her hand and entered.

Instantly, Leta recognised Lucius by his signature hair – his body was vehemently convulsing on the floor at the Dark Lord's feet. The latter seemed quite relaxed, lounging on his throne, wand lazily pointing at the blonde. He glanced up when she entered, having heard the door open, before returning his attention to the tortured man. He ended the Cruciatus and briefly dismissed him: "Leave. Do not disappoint me again."

Lucius scrambled up, and after shooting a quick look at his son, who stood at the room's side – likely waiting for his turn – he left, not bothering to greet or even glance at Leta as he hurried out. Leta was curious about what had happened.

The Dark Lord then spoke, seemingly to no one in particular, "Bring her in now."

One of the Death Eaters standing by the wall, near another door, one slightly behind the throne, slipped away.

Draco was cowering in his spot, seeming to not dare walk up to the Dark Lord. Leta went to stand next to the boy, who was nearly as tall as her nowadays – it had been quite some time since she'd seen him; she hadn't realised the kid had grown up so much already.

"Draco, I will deal with you later. Leave."

The boy was very clearly relieved, and the Dark Lord raised a brow at him when he didn't immediately move, which made Draco quickly scurry off after his father.

The man who had slipped away, entered again through the same door, holding onto a rag of a girl with brown, messy hair that covered her face, prohibiting Leta from potentially recognising her. The Death Eater went to stand at the Dark Lord's side.

Leta calmly walked up to her Lord. She had never had to fear him quite as much as the Malfoys, as she hadn't yet messed up on a task – though she was of course not stupid enough to not fear him at all; she just didn't show her apprehension.

"My Lord," she bowed her head.

"Welcome back, Leta. I trust your discussions with France, Germany and Belgium went well?"

"Indeed, my Lord. Though they weren't all that excited at the proposals made, at first, I eventually succeeded at making them see things from our perspective."

"Very good."

"Thank you, my Lord."

Leta felt eyes on her: the girl was now looking up and observing her curiously. "You must be wondering what she is doing here," the Dark Lord stated more than asked.

She answered anyway. "Yes, my Lord."

"Do you recognise her?"

Now that he had given her permission, Leta turned her head to look at the prisoner. Now that the girl had her head up and her hair had mostly fallen back from her face, she was much more recognisable.

"This is Hermione Granger, best friend to Harry Potter, is it not?"

"It is, indeed. I would like for you to take her with you."

Both Hermione and Leta looked at him with surprise.

"If I may, my Lord," Leta tentatively asked, "Why?"

"Because you will be turning her to our side. You succeeded already with miss Jones, so surely this shouldn't be too taxing."

"Of course, my Lord. Will you be requiring updates?"

"I will call upon you regularly, yes. Do you have your reports with you?"

"Yes, my Lord," she nodded, stepping forward to hand him the three folders in which she had made the notes about her recent task.

He looked over them, quickly, before nodding and looking up.

"You may go," he dismissed her, "Do not forget your new charge."

The Death Eater holding her, let her go, pushing her towards Leta, and Hermione didn't quite seem to know whether to scramble back or run, so just remained frozen some distance away from Leta.

Leta thought of something, and looked back at her Lord, "My Lord, just one more thing: is she suicidal?"

"She is not."

Leta nodded. She knew it was standard practise for him to use Legilimency on high-level prisoners, to find out what accommodations would be most fitting, depending on whether they were suicidal, would self-mutilate, would be aggressively violent towards their warden, and some other factors, and therefore trusted his word. The girl's desire to live would make things much easier.

Knowing she would have to build up trust, Leta walked two steps closer and stretched out an inviting hand, attempting to soften her facial expression to an inviting smile, "Come on," she nodded encouragingly.

"Today, please," the Dark Lord said in a tone that was both threatening and bored.

Leta raised her eyebrows impatiently. Finally, the girl came towards her. She didn't take the proffered hand. As though waiting for instruction, she remained standing next to Leta, but still not too close.

"Let's go," Leta spoke, leading the way, trusting for the girl to follow, as she was smart enough to not invite the Dark Lord's wrath by not complying.

Hermione quietly followed her outside, where they crossed paths with Severus Snape. Leta had just taken a hold of Hermione's upper arm, ready to side-along the girl. "Ah, Leta," Severus greeted, seemingly ignoring Hermione's presence. Leta had spotted his quick alarmed look, though, as he had clearly not been expecting to see the girl here or in her presence. But, as usual, the man had quickly schooled his expression again. "Back from your trip?"

She hummed, nodding in the positive, "I just returned today, actually."

"Hm. New task?" he questioned, gesturing to Hermione.

"Yes," she briefly replied. Leta hid her curiousness about his behaviour behind a smile. She knew the man had taught the girl, but still, he was acting rather oddly.

"Wish I could talk longer, but I need to get home to unpack, and you don't want to let the Dark Lord wait for you," she changed the subject, effectively ending the conversation.

"Indeed. Have a nice day."

"You too," she nodded, before turning on the spot and escaping his investigative gaze.

They landed in an alleyway next to Leta's building. Hermione remained quiet, though Leta saw her look around curiously when she glanced at her.

When she let go of Hermione's upper arm and took a hold of her hand instead, the girl looked up at her questioningly. Leta merely said: "Act natural."

She led the girl out into the street, around the corner, and towards the front door of the apartment-complex. She was about to step forward and push open the door, when one of her neighbours came out: a nice woman of about forty named Maria.

"Oh hey, Leta!" she greeted, "And who's this?" the woman asked, looking at Hermione, before turning her gaze back to Leta, raising her eyebrows teasingly, "Your new girlfriend?"

From the corner of her eye, Leta noticed Hermione's widening eyes, and quickly squeezed her hand to remind her of what she had just ordered.

"She is indeed," Leta smiled, easily putting up a show of being happy and in love. She let go of Hermione's hand to clasp her around the shoulders and pull her closer, "Hermione," she introduced, "this is Maria, my neighbour, Maria, meet Hermione."

"Hi," Hermione squeaked.

"Hi! Nice to meet you, Hermione," Maria smiled kindly. The woman looked back to Leta, and spoke, "We will definitely continue this conversation, but not now: I have to get to my parents'."

"Oh, yes, sure. See you later," Leta nodded, still smiling.

"Later! And have fun!" Maria replied over her shoulder as she dashed towards the alley Leta and Hermione had just come from.

As soon as the woman was gone, she let the smile drop off her face, and took Hermione by the hand again. She pushed open the door and headed for the staircase, pulling the girl along.

They entered her apartment, and when Leta had closed the door and reset the wards, she finally let go of Hermione's hand—now certain no one could see them and she couldn't run off. She took the luggage she had left at the door, and walked down the hall.

"Come on, I'll show you around."

Hermione hesitatingly followed, not quite knowing what to expect.

As Leta passed doors, she pointed out to what they led, until she reached the door at the end of the hall and entered – her bedroom. Hermione lingered in the doorway as Leta started unpacking her baggage.

"The door facing this one will be your room. I haven't done anything to it yet, though, since I didn't know I'd be having a house guest."

Upon receiving no answer, Leta paused her movements and looked up at the fidgeting girl. "You do know you are allowed to speak, right?" she asked rhetorically.

"Why am I here?" Hermione finally asked. "What are you going to do to me?"

Pleased at the progress, Leta continued to unpack. "Oh, nothing unpleasant—unless you fail to comply of course."

"Who is Jones?" was the girl's next question.

"Hestia Jones was sort of in your position, some time ago."

Hermione gasped, and Leta looked up, "You know her? Oh, right, she's been stationed in the Order, right?"

"That's not possible," Hermione shook her head. "She helped us protect Harry."

"Yes, quite the caring witch, isn't she? I taught her how to put up such a show."

"You're lying," Hermione exclaimed, quickly covering her mouth with her hands as she realised what had slipped out. Her eyes widened.

Leta stood up straight, leaving her bags for the moment, and approached Hermione, who was stepping back. The girl was stopped in her retreat by the door at her back.

"Excuse me?"

"It's—It's just—Nothing. I didn't mean to say that," she stuttered, clearly fearful.

Leta leaned closer, and grazed the trembling girl's cheek with the tips of her fingers, which only made her eyes widen even more. "Oh, love," Leta tilted her head as she looked at her, "You mistake me for the Dark Lord. I merely wish to know why you would say such a thing."

Hermione frowned, apprehensive and fearful, not knowing what to do with this new information.

"Well?" Leta asked when she received no answer. She lowered her fingers to the girl's chin and slightly tilted up her head. Her voice was soft.

"I—I just can't believe Hestia would betray us."

"She didn't, technically. She was trained by me, before being put in Dumbledore's path."

Hermione's frown deepened, "But he'd have noticed."

"He didn't, because the woman was a very gifted occlumens, and the Headmaster was too naïve to think a nice girl like her would ever be on our side."

"But—"

Leta covered Hermione's lips with a finger, "Shh. No more talk of unchangeable things. How about I finish my unpacking later, and we make dinner?" She took her finger off the girl's lips, so she could answer.

"S—Sure," Hermione nodded slightly, frowning slightly at the rather mundane plan.

"Good," Leta smiled. She looked Hermione's face up and down once more before stepping back. "Why don't you go ahead to the kitchen and look whether I have something edible around?"

Still hesitating, Hermione nodded again, before walking towards the door that had been indicated to her, periodically looking over her shoulder at Leta, not trusting the woman enough to fully turn her back to her. Leta looked after her until she had reached the kitchen and left her sight. She then opened Hermione's room and went in to open the window to refresh the room, which hadn't been used for a long time. She also cast a general cleaning spell, and put fresh sheets on the bed. Next, she gathered her bag of dirty clothing in her own room and went to the washer to put them in, so it could be washed while she did other things – she preferred the machine over a spell because it made her clothes softer, and didn't like to wash them by hand, even if she let a spell assist her, since it made her lose time she could use to do something else.

When she got to the kitchen, she found Hermione sitting at the table, looking at her hands. The girl looked up when she heard her enter.

"Found something?"

"Yes: left-over noodles under a stasis charm." Hermione looked back down at her hands.

"Perfect. Let me heat it up, and we'll eat."

After dinner, which they had eaten in silence, Leta asked, "So tell me, how did we get a hold of you?"

Hermione looked up quite surprised.

"I only returned today from my business trip, so I don't know about much that has happened here in Britain in the last few weeks."

"Snatchers. My friends got away."

"Harry Potter and Ron Weasley?"

Hermione merely nodded.

"Alright. Why don't you go take a shower while I clean up. It's getting late. If you have any remaining wounds, you may use the ointments and bandages you'll find in the medicine cabinet."

Leta didn't worry about leaving her alone, and that made Hermione uncomfortable: what had the woman planned? Why wasn't she predictable like the other Death Eaters, instead of seeming, frankly, nice and normal. She didn't know what to expect.

A/N: I may one day expand on the scenes of this story further, but for now I'm publishing it as it is. It is mostly done, and so will definitely not get abandoned: I merely have to get the last round of editing done. It should have eleven chapters (unless I change something last minute, which is rather unlikely). I may yet add a postscript after the eleventh chapter to clarify some of the realities in this AU/Canon divergence.

Let me know what you think. Please tell me if you find any errors (spelling or otherwise). Thank you.