Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters of the story. Only the Plot is my own. No Copy Right Infringement is Intended.

~*~*~ The Slave ~*~*~

By: Admin: Fremione3

Prologue

Hermione sat in a small wooden rocking chair, next to a large bay window. However, what captured her attention was not the outside world, but the photographs that lined the ledge. Frames upon frames were placed and stacked carefully, each with it's own important story to tell. The witch was feeling rather nostalgic on this particular crisp morning. It was barely dawn, the faint pink sun was just peeking over the horizon. The brown eyed, bushy haired witch only had eyes for her pictures.

The young woman was focusing on what looked to be a younger version of her former self. She was standing between two others. Our younger version Hermione was smiling brightly with two extra large front teeth sparkling. Her eyes were soft and happy as she laughed. To her left stood a young wizard with untidy black hair and circle shaped glasses. A lightening shaped scar peeking from under his unruly hair. Emerald green eyes danced with mirth. To her right was a taller gangly young wizard. He had ginger colored hair and baby blue eyes. Freckles were splashed across his face. He too, was smiling widely.

Hermione sighed softly a single tear tracked down her face. Memories could sometimes be a blessing or they could be a curse. The two wizards in the photo with her, were none other than Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. The picture was taken at the end of their first term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They had know idea what the next 10 years held for any of them. She liked to think that things might have been different if they had known. If there was any inkling how everything would pan out.

The next picture she focused on caused a lump to form in her chest. There were 9 gingers smiling and talking to one another in the picture. The Matriarch Molly was a plump short witch who could scare you with her fierce looks, however in this picture she was beaming with pride. The Patriarch Arthur was a balding man with glasses. He was smiling adoringly at his wife while their 7 children huddled around. The eldest Bill stood out with the scars he'd gotten from a werewolf named Greyback. Bill was not changed to a wolf, but the scars will forever mare his skin, he will also take his steaks on the raw side, now. Then there was Charlie. He's always been the outdoorsy type. He was a Dragon charmer! Then there was Percy, he was pompous looking puffing his chest out arrogantly in the photo. His horn-rimmed glasses perched perfectly on his nose. Behind him were the twins Fred and George. This mischievous light in their eyes and their heads together, you could tell they were plotting something. The furtive glances they were giving their elder brother Percy clued you in to WHO they were plotting about. Then a familiar lanky body and blue eyes twinkled. Ron Weasley stood there awkwardly with a rat perched precariously on his shoulder. He was waving happily at the camera. Beside him was the baby of the family. Young Ginny, the first girl born to the Weasley's in quite a few generations. She was smiling shyly at the camera while looking nervously at her twin brothers.

Hermione tore her eyes from the photo and a myriad of emotions flitted over her tired face. Happiness, Longing, Sadness, Grief. So many warring emotions did not bode well for the already emotional witch.

A letter sat next to the picture and she picked it up to reread it.

Hermione Dear,

I don't ever know what to say in these things, I know that we haven't been...

Well that is neither here nor there. We enclosed some pictures of Rose, she

is growing into a lovely witch dear. It pains me greatly that you can not be

with your daughter. I'm sorry for the way things worked out, it was never

intended to go the way it did. I'm sure you can understand the need to

survive. You were there, you saw what happened... Though I'd rather not

delve into such sad memories. How are things in your household?

Perhaps one of these days you can forgive us enough for a visit.

We still love you Hermione, dear.

With Love,

Molly

Small pictures of a happy little girl with fiery red pigtails giggling as she ran through the pictures. Her soft brown eyes shone with happiness and excitement as she played with her father and her uncle.

Traitor tears leaked out of the corners of Hermione's eyes, the letter while seemingly sweet... She could never face the Weasley's again. Not after everything that had happened. Not even to see her now 5 year old daughter. It would be too hard on her.

She was brought from her musing by a loud cry from the Bassinet perched on the other side of the room. She stood up and made her way over and lifted the small infant in her arms. He had a brown tuft of hair and obsidian dark eyes.

"Toby." She cooed to the infant soothingly, "Are you hungry, love?"

Knowing full well he couldn't answer her yet she walked him slowly over the rocking chair and adjusted her top so she could feed him. The small infant latched possessively to her bosom, drinking greedily.

She smiled lovingly at the infant, the pain and suffering that had been caused seemed small and insignificant when she held her son closely. He was a blessing.

"We've had a rough road Toby, but things will get better." Hermione told him as she rocked slowly in the chair.

A/N

This is basically almost the end of the story my lovelies. I will warn you now that Chapter 1 is not for the faint hearted. There were will be character deaths, abuse, rape, and torture. Obviously the story will have a somewhat happy ending. But to get to the rest of this we have to go back several years. – Fremione3