Title: Wait for the Fight

Written for the Jury of Your Peers Competition (Voldemort wins),the OTP Boot Camp prompt #4 (battered) and the One AU World Boot Camp prompt #20 (try, try again).

Type of story: dark/angst/hopeful

Rated T for violence. You've been warned. This one was borderline M but I don't think its gory enough really for M. Just a little head-up.


"Do you understand nothing!? On your hands and knees!"

She didn't really get much time to actually fall forward, and when she didn't Lucius took it into his own hands to push her down. She landed on a cut on her knee and winced but said nothing, remaining silent in his presence as she always did. Clenching her teeth she slammed her eyes shut, waiting for the beating that was likely to follow.

It never came. On rare occasions someone stopped Lucius before he went too far, but Hermione still wondered how long it would take this man to kill her. Someday, he was going to go too far.

"Father, enough."

"Draco, get out of the way. Can't you see I'm dealing with something right now!?"

"I'm not a child father, and as I've told you before, Granger was given to me, not you. You would do well to remember that."

She kept her eyes closed as the two argued, knowing it would do her no good to get up and run again. Lucius wouldn't be too careful to not hurt her, and Malfoy could only help her so much sometimes. She stayed where she was, waiting for the argument to hand.

"Granger, stand up," Malfoy said a few minutes later. She could see his shoes in her vision, and got up as quickly as she could. Her body hurt like usual, and despite the current circumstances she still turned her head up proudly to Lucius as they walked away. She didn't miss the whip in Draco's hand though as they walked through the Manor. Apparently he'd taken it away from his father.

She ignored the Death Eaters who passed by as they walked. If one of them tried something Malfoy would only help if things went too far. He couldn't help her with everything. Unfortunately, every time she tried to stop something herself she just got in trouble. Sometimes if she was disobedient enough she was taken to Voldemort himself. That only happened twice, but she barely escaped with her life both times. Malfoy would mend her up in his room, but it didn't take away the mental damage. Voldemort was slowly ruining her.

A year had passed since Harry's death. When Voldemort won, the Death Eaters went on a rampage. Thousands were killed, including Ron. Hermione would never forget the moment when she lost him, but she tried to not think about it too much either. Thinking about it never really gave her a lot of motivation to keep living. But she had to live.

A resistance was building of those left alive, and Hermione wasn't even exactly sure who that was. She just knew that there was one, and that she needed to get out of the Manor and join. Problem was, it was practically impossible to get in or out without being noticed. And if anyone caught her outside the Manor she'd be killed instantly.

She hadn't gotten that far yet. Usually she was stopped by someone first- mainly Lucius.

"Why must you always do this?" Draco snapped, throwing open the door to his room. She slept in his room to make sure she wouldn't escape anywhere. While most of the Death Eaters were under the influence that he used her at night, Draco never touched her. Whether it was out of disgust or respect she didn't know, and she wouldn't chance finding out. "Someday, he's going to kill you, and no one is going to be able to stop him. He's been trying to for ages now."

"He might do more than kill me," she muttered, rubbing her arms. He stiffened briefly but didn't respond to that. She knew he just didn't want to. "How'd you convince him to give you that whip?"

Again, the blond stiffened. "I told him I would use it on you to make you more obedient."

Her shoulders sagged at that. She hadn't listened to the full conversation, as her head was ringing at the time. She had hoped that the man simply took it from him, but apparently that wasn't the case. "Oh."

"Don't get excited. I'm sure he has more around. Father's adopted this rather strange obsession with using weapons or devices to influence pain on the slaves instead of simply using his magic."

There was that word again; slave. Malfoy treated her well as far as being a slave went, meaning that he didn't force himself on her and didn't abuse her. Several of the Death Eater's thought he was insane for that, and even voiced their opinions on the matter. One even went after her. But he just shrugged the matter off, reminding each and every one of them that she was given to him and he would decide what to do with her. If he chose to do nothing with her, then that was his choice too.

In many ways, she was lucky Voldemort handed her over to him and not someone else. And she was also very unlucky, because she was a slave to begin with. She could chose to be as defiant as she wanted, but that didn't mean that it was helping her get out. It was only resulting in battering from Lucius and the other Death Eater's.

Draco could only help so much in situations like that.

"It's inhumane," she said quietly, sitting on the floor. He once offered up the idea of a bed or cot, but the idea was never seen through when some of the other Death Eater's started calling him soft. He couldn't let them think that, else Voldemort might really rip her away from him, and then she really would die. He was pretty much the only thing keeping her alive those days.

"I didn't say I agreed with his treatment to human beings in general," the blond reminded, tossing the whip in his closet. She sincerely hoped to never see it again. "But there's nothing I can do about it Granger, you know that."

"Yes," she muttered, folding her legs up. It hurt and she hissed, unfolding them again. She'd been battered more than usual today, mostly because Lucius was in an extremely bad mood when he found her. They'd been in the dungeons at the time where she'd run to, and there were no Death Eater's currently down there. He might've killed her had Draco not come along.

Sighing the blond grabbed his wand, wandering towards her. He kept several powerful spells on it to avoid having her steal it. He might not be as bad as some, but he couldn't afford having her steal his. After all, her wand had been snapped.

"Where's it hurt Granger?"

"Where do you think?" she snapped, eyes squeezed together. "Everywhere. You're father's cruel."

"I know." He sat beside her, beginning to work on a cut in her forehead. "Tell me where it hurts, and I'll heal it up."

Malfoy wasn't a total jerk at least.


Try, try again. That's what she was doing. She kept trying to break free, to get out of the Manor, but nothing would work. One night Lucius and another Death Eater almost killed her, and Draco almost couldn't stop them. She was lucky he was able to do anything at all.

He kept trying to convince her to just lie low. If she stopped trying to leave people would pay her less attention and she would be less of a target. But Hermione, stubborn as always, couldn't do that. She couldn't imagine living like this for the rest of her life.

Until one night, Draco sat down with her on the floor.

"They're going to kill you," he said, eyeing her. "They're tired of constantly having to corral you when you run away. If you don't stop, they will murder you, and it won't be forgiving."

"I wouldn't expect it," she replied, staring blankly at the wall across from them. "It's a wonder that it hasn't happened already."

"If you would just sit in here and stop leaving every time I step from the room, you might be able to save your own life. But if you keep rashly running about, they will kill you in front of Voldemort. I won't be able to stop them."

"Then so be it," she whispered, her eyes blank. She didn't have any fight left in her.

He arched an eyebrow at her, saying nothing for a long time. When he finally did, his words surprised her.

"I know about the resistance. We all do. We just don't know who they are yet. And I know that's where you're trying to get to. You're trying to fight."

Her head swiveled to look at him. What was he getting at?

"I wouldn't object to them winning. I just don't think I'll be left alive if the resistance storms this place."

Now he had her full, complete attention.

He sighed, turning his head again to look at her. "Don't run out Granger. Sit here and get strong. Someday, the resistance will have to take on this place. And I won't hold you back if you try to go and join them then."

For a long time she just stared at him, stunned by her words. She thought he was heartless for the most part, but he kept proving her wrong. Malfoy honestly didn't want to see her die.

He also didn't seem too happy that he was a bad guy either. Hermione didn't quite know what to say in response. At length, he stood and walked away.

She knew one thing though; she was going to bide her time until the resistance arrived.

Hermione would wait, and then she'd fight. She could still avenge those who were dead.


A/n: This is more of a snapshot of what Hermione's life could be like in a world where Voldemort wins. And an idea of how Draco might be too. I hope you enjoyed and shoot a review this way if you could :D