I ran clutching the strange child to me as much as I could, the weight and pain in my legs burning. I knew for the sake of both our lives, it would be much better to keep running.

I knew it was foolish to try and think I could outrun the Death Eaters, but I had to try.

My wand was in the pocket of my jeans, but it would be too risky to try and use it while carrying this boy.

This was the latest trick in Voldemort's stupid way of torturing us Muggleborns. Enslaving us, he says is a better way for us to serve the better half of the witches and wizards. Purebloods.

This boy was getting heavier by the minute and part of me just wanted to let him go and let him fend for himself. But I couldn't do that, he was just a child. I knew he was a muggleborn just like me because of the state of him. His rags.

Its been three years since the final battle took place. Three yeas since Harry feel and the world's gone to hell. Ron was gone too, not dead, well not at least by what we heard last. He's been missing for years. The pain I felt for both of them was intense, and I couldn't bear not seeing them being with them. For seven years I spent just about every waking minute with them, and now there gone. Dumbledore was gone also, has been since our sixth year.

Now Muggle-Borns and Muggles were hunted, and by new law to be enslaved. I don't even know how I came to gain this little boy. Only that I was running, he was in my path, and now I had him.

The stupid death eaters were tailing me and I couldn't shake them off no matter what I tried. I would apparate but they could trail that, and it would be useless and a waste of energy.

Muggle-Borns and Muggles alike were being forced from our homes, and out onto streets. Its a new world now; the Holocaust had been bad, but this, this was worse. World was no longer full of pleasure just pain. I even was forced from my home, managing to escape the Death Eaters then. I couldn't find the Weasley's anywhere. They escaped like many purebloods against Voldemort had. To places no one could find them. Many who escaped managed to take muggle born friends with them. I however was not as fortunate.

Fear slowly crept into the pit of my stomach as I heard the voices become louder, but no matter what I did I wouldn't let the fear over take me. The pounding of my heart sounding in my ears, and I felt he little boys curious gaze upon me. It felt as if at any moment my legs were going to give out from under me.

Then I felt it the dreaded unwelcomed chill through my body and after that it was only darkness.

A steady creaking met my ears and I blinked furiously against the sun. my arms felt limp and heavy, pins and needles racking through them. I forced my eyes open and saw that I was still holding onto the child, which was sleeping quietly in my dead arms. At least I prayed that's what he was doing.

"Good your awake, now move over!" A voice demanded from beside me. Turning I saw a hagly like older woman hovering above me.

"Sorry," I said and inching over, not unsure of where we were, besides the fact we were in a wagon.

"You're waiting for your turn in the trials." A voice drawled from the front of the wagon, almost as if the man read my mind.

"Trials?" I asked confused, the elderly witch cackled beside me.

"All of us Mudbloods are to go, pity you haven't heard of them," the witch drawled. It shocked me slightly to hear the woman talk about her self that way. Hermione laughed to herself that the greatest hater against Muggleborns was using such a 1700's style of going about things. It was like the Salem Witch Trials in Colonial America.

The wagon opened and a hooded man stood in the doorway.

"Next!" He called looking at the boy and me and the elderly hag.

"This young one is to go next," The man in the front said, "Too much sass for her own good."

The man grabbed me by my upper sleeve and yank me out. "Let go of the kid."

"No, he's coming with me." I stated and the man shrugged. Big tough man he was.

Fear flooded through me as I realized I had no idea what the trials were. The boy was now awake and staring at me again, and I placed him on the ground. I couldn't hold him any longer. I stared at the boy as I waited for my instructions. The boy had smokey greens eyes and black hair. He could only be three or four. I refused to let the thoughts into my mind.

Ginny and Harry had been engaged three years ago, and Ginny had been pregnant at the final battle; but Ginny still had the baby. I was certain it was a girl anyway. Besides Ginny was gone, living with the purebloods, making a good life, unable and un-aloud to contact me.

The man flicked his wand and suddenly here I was standing in my matching green knickers and bra. Can you say exsposed much? I felt my face grow warm but I tried as hard as I could to look bored instead of utterly embarassed. I was about to protest when the hooded man shoved me and the boy through a curtined way.

Crowds of men shouting talking and laughing met my eyes as the hooded man tied my arm to a pole and Elias to my other hand. The men looked up at us greedily, and I felt sick.

"Hello again everyone!" The hooded man said, his voice magnified to be heard. "This young woman here is just twenty, young and fresh boys!"

Creative I thought, and they say the muggleborns are the dirty blood. I forced the bile down my throat and looked around.

"This here woman is sassy and fresh, and comes with a free little boy! But be wary its not hers, so what's that tell you men?!"

Hermione was so tempted to say something against that statement, bit the cheering and onscenities from the hooded men shocked me into silence.

"Now who do we have here you wonder? Well this woman is Hermione Granger, yeah that's right boys, thee Hermione Granger who was with the 'Chosen One,' part of his famous trio! Well now she does deserve punishment after all doesn't she?"

The shouts and hollers only became louder. So, I thought, does that make me worth more? Who said dry humor never worked in bad situations?

"We'll start the bidding at eighty gallons!" The man shouted and I rolled her eyes.

"I'll give you ninety!" A man's voice slithered up.

"One hundred." A man's voice said, with no emotion and almost in a bored tone.

"110!" A new voice shouted.

"One thirty," The bored voice called again.

I was ashamed, horrified and terrified; god knows what these men will do to me. Hell I don't care about me so much, but what about the little boy?

"150!" Again a new voice.

"300 Galleons and seven sickles." The bored voice called again and this time, no one argued with him.

"Sold!" The hooded man yelled, "Come on up and claim your prize!"

The man slithered through the crowd, it immeditally parting for him as he stepped up the platform. He was hooded much like the rest of the crowd, carrying and extra robe with him. He was tall and moved silently up the platform and over to me and the young boy. I felt an uneasy chill in the pit of my stomach as I realized my fate was almost sealed now.

He drapped the cloak around me covering me up and surprising me greatly. He grabbed my wrist, and I gripped the boys wrists tighter as I felt the familiar sensation of apparating.