Prologue

My twins are scared. They're screaming for me, their mother. My son, Zosimos puts himself in front of his sister, Leilani. The sixteen-year-olds are facing their father; Lord Voldemort.

My name is Hermione Granger and this is my story.

Ch. 1

Voldemort killed Harry in the final battle. Everyone fought desperately hard, especially Ron and me. We shot curses side by side. We took on death eaters with ease, both fighting fiercely from Harry's death and the grief it caused. One after another, the death eaters fell. Dolohov, Yaxley, Rookwood.

Suddenly Voldemort was in front of us. Everyone around us was occupied, so he had us all to himself. We fought valiantly, but it was incredibly hard to keep up with all the curses and hexes. In a flurry of light, I heard Ron scream and then everything went black.

I awoke in a dark room on an incredibly warm and comfortable bed. I had no idea how long I had been out. I sat up and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Why was I still alive? What happened to the battle? Where's Ron? Where am I? I thought, panicking. I heard a soft chuckle coming from a chair near a fireplace, to my left. I jumped. A man stood up and walked over to me.

"So many questions, little lioness," he said. Red eyes stared at me and I realized who he was and that he had used legillemency to find out my thoughts. I stared at him, frozen in place. "If you have yet to realize it," he said, leaning down in front of my frightened face, "I won."

I was having a hard time breathing. "T-t-t-the others?" I whispered, almost inaudibly. He smiled cruelly.

"Everyone who resisted is dead. Including," he paused dramatically, smiling evilly, "your precious Ronald Weasley."

No, no, no. This was all wrong. Harry was supposed to win. He was supposed to have married Ginny and had kids named after his late parents! I was supposed to marry Ron, and have maybe two kids, naming my daughter Rose! This was ALL wrong. Evil doesn't triumph over good!

Images of my two best friends kept flitting through my mind. I saw everyone, the Weasley's, the school professors, my dorm mates, everyone! All of them were dead? I tried not to cry in front of Voldemort, but that seemed to be what he was waiting for. As tear after tear began betraying me, he smiled. He ran his thumb down my jaw line. I instantly pulled away. Then, he left me to my tears.

I stayed in that room for I don't know how long. Days? Weeks? Months? I wouldn't eat unless the house elves force fed me or looked upset. I still had a soft spot for them ever since S.P.E.W. I stayed in bed for the majority of the time unless I was looking out the window at the sunrise and sunset. I didn't speak more than a sentence a day. I kept the room as dark as I could. Voldemort sent me books on Dark Magic to read. I didn't read them until he started to get annoyed. Even when I did read them, I didn't comprehend them.

One day, I had just finished reading one of the Dark Magic books. I wouldn't have been able to tell anyone what it was about. I was staring at the fire. I didn't look up when the door to my chambers opened. Voldemort spoke to me, but I didn't listen, I listened only to the crackling of the fire. He sat in the chair next to me with a small sigh.

"Hermione." I heard him speak my name as if from far away. My grief had alienated me from this world. I barely felt him grasp my hand and he spoke to me but I didn't comprehend.

Then, two words broke through my coma-like state. "Marry me." I felt him slide a ring into place on my left hand.

"No."

It was the first time since the day he first brought me here that I spoke to him. He looked up from my hand, surprised yet pleased. My head was clearing and I was becoming myself again; slowly re-entering this world. I pulled my hand away from him and shook my head.

"Yes," he said. He leaned over and gently kissed my cheek; I pulled away. He stood and left the room. I stared down into the emerald ring, seeing my once more alive and frightened eyes reflecting back through the glassy rock.

The next few weeks I went into a new state of being. I was always hysterical or laughing insanely. This was more than I could take. I was overwhelmed. First losing everyone I love and then this? I wouldn't accept it. I did accept it. I don't know...I felt crazy. House elves would come in and take measurements for my wedding dress. I'd laugh and tell them I wasn't getting married. They'd ask me to pick between fabrics and I'd burst into tears screaming, "WHY DOES IT MATTER? I DON'T WANNA MARRY HIM!" I'd try to hurt myself but they'd always restrain me. I barely took in their frightened faces. They actually put me in a muggle strait-jacket a couple times. I'd stare at it for a long time in complete silence. Then, I'd start laughing hysterically. "IT'S...A STRAIGHT-JACKET. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" And then I'd collapse, tired from the emotional turmoil.

I felt oddly disconnected from my life, but I felt like I was doing this purposefully. It helped me avoid reality when I laughed. When I broke down into fits of hysteria, I secretly hoped that I would be considered crazy and that Voldemort would lose his desire to marry me. I hoped for anything to happen that would give me an escape route.

Five days before my wedding, I tried to drown myself in the bathtub. It could have worked too! That bathtub was as big as the Prefects bathtub at Hogwarts! The house elves pulled me out.

Four days before my wedding, I just faked being dead, hoping beyond hope they'd get rid of me. A house elf, however, yelled in my ear and I jumped, giving myself away.

Three days before my wedding, I tried to choke myself on my food. The house elves performed the Heimlich maneuver. I love house elves, don't get me wrong, but they were so annoyingly helpful!

Two days before my wedding, I tried to cut myself with my dinner knife. The house elves grabbed it from me and gave me food that I could eat without a knife.

On the day before my wedding, I went out on my room's balcony. I felt the breeze whip through my hair. I climbed up on the rail, which was about six inches thick. I held my arms out and closed my eyes. The house elves weren't stopping me, I could jump. I lifted one foot and a smile graced my lips. I was finally going to be free. A strong arm grabbed my waist and pulled me backwards into him. Darn, foiled again, I thought.

Voldemort turned me to face him and I could see he was angry. "You could have killed yourself!" He hissed.

"That's the point," I said, my tone dry and face expressionless. He growled then sighed exasperatedly.

"In," he said pointing to my room. I obeyed and got into my bed. As soon as he left, I'd go back out. To my surprise, and great displeasure, he sat in a chair next to my bed. I inwardly growled. He was going to watch me all night. I'd have to wait until he fell asleep. After half an hour of me tossing and turning, he spoke. "Sleep, Hermione."

"I can't," I said, annoyed greatly by his presence. He muttered a sleeping charm and I instantly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.