A/N I think I'm using Dark Hermione stories as a procrastinating device to writing my Dark Harry story. I wrote this because my favourite reviewer (So favourite because she was my very first.) Madm05 asked me why Hermione went dark in Kings or Pawns. This isn't in any way related to King or Pawns, but it's a reason.

2nd A/N This is also inspired by a story called Dumbledore's Feint, but more importantly by it's sequel City of Woe. I don't like the way Harry is treating Hermione in it. I changed the plot enough so it's mine, but it was inspired.

3rd A/N This is like nothing I've written, or plan on writing again. To be frank, I don't really like this sort of thing, but, what's a girl to do, when a story you read is so good it makes you angry at Harry.

HBP never happened.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, hell I even stole the general idea for the plot. Aren't I the little thief?

She had brought him back.

She had done what no one else had been able to do.

She had done it for HIM.

Hermione stood in front of the mirror, staring at a woman she didn't recognize. A woman she didn't like. She had become something else, something pathetic, weak. Something not Hermione Granger. Tear stains marred her pale skin, her eyes were puffy and red, evidence of her recent crying jag.

Well she was done with that. She wasn't going to become something she despised. A weak, stupid girl who went to pieces because some fucking bastard decided to rip her heart out. Perhaps she could become the monster they made her out to be. She would show them what she was capable of, and let them fear her.

They already did. She might as well give them a reason. Show them what a monster really was.

Smiling coldly at her own reflection she picked up a large book and threw it at the mirror. It shattered with a satisfying sound of glass breaking.

"Now was that necessary?"

Hermione turned slowly, she had never heard the voice before, but she knew exactly who it was.

"Not necessary, but satisfying."

Lord Voldemort smirked at her. "Ah yes, I find the same thing with killing muggles."

Hermione shrugged. "We all have our hobbies." She said indifferently.

Voldemort laughed softly, watching her intently. Finally he shook his head. "Now I know that boy is an idiot."

Hermione arched a brow. "If your talking about Harry I knew he was an idiot a long time ago."

"Then why did you stay by his side?"

Hermione shrugged. " Past tense, stayed. I loved him."

"No longer?"

Hermione snorted. "I'd love to rip his beating heart out."

Voldemort laughed delightedly. "And if I gave you the chance?"

"Then I'd have to wonder why you would be willing to let a mudblood join you."

Voldemort smiled cruelly. "But your not just a mudblood are you, my little Necromancer?"

Hermione flinched slightly.

Necromancer.

The power to bring back the dead, mostly as zombies, but if the body was fresh enough, and she did the proper rituals she could bring the dead to life.

Just as she had done to Remus Lupin.

Necromancers were very rare, it was the rarest natural ability there was. One every millennium or so one popped up. They were powerful, usually muggle born, and always hated. It was a unnatural talent, it went against the laws of nature. They were unholy, evil, dangerous. They were things, that if found were killed.

The last one had been ten when he had been brutally butchered by his own parents. Better than to allow such a evil thing to live.

The only reason Hermione wasn't killed was because of Dumbledore. He never would let any of his students be harmed. But her presence in the castle was nothing more than a formality. No one would teach her. House elf's brought her assignments to her. She was confined to her room.

No one wanted to have anything to do with a Necromancer.

Not even Harry.

Harry, who she had revealed herself for. So he wouldn't lose the last vestige of his parents. She had sacrificed everything for him, and he, like all the others had turned his back on her. She had done what not even Dumbledore could have done and rather than his gratitude, he had shunned her like everyone else.

In the beginning she had handled everyone else shunning her, what did she care, when she had Harry?

"Being a Necromancer is not a bad thing, Hermione." He had said when he had first found out, his green, green eyes shining with the sincerity of his words. "It just makes you different. Like me."

She had been crying after Mrs. Weasley had screamed that she didn't want something so vile around her children.

"To think that I treated you like a daughter, you filthy thing!" She had screamed, her face turning red.

Everyone turned their back on her, but Harry, Harry said that he would always be there for her. That he didn't care what she was.

Like a fool she had believed him.

Like a fool she had hoped .

It was gradual at first, she didn't notice it much, he would spend more time with Ron or someone else. Then came that when she came close to him that he would turn away. Then the worst happened.

She found Harry and Ginny in the girl's lavatory where Ginny was giving Harry a blow job.

Something numb had come over her, something that smoothed the pain away, burying beneath a layer of ice.

She remembered that day, nearly two months ago like it was yesterday. It was burned into her mind. Since then she stopped trying to hide that she was different. She flaunted it in their faces. She walked around the school, head held high, dressed in black. Whenever anyone stared at her, she made a move like she was coming to throttle them.

No one stared at her now. There were no whispers behind her back. They didn't even look at her. All but Ginny who, when she saw Hermione coming, she was sure to drape herself around Harry like a cape, smirking like she had won a prize.

Voldemort watched her with narrowed eyes, but said nothing.

Finally Hermione met Voldemort's crimson eyes. Hitching her chin up a notch she stared at the most feared dark wizard of the age. "Your right, I'm not a mudblood anymore. I am a Necromancer. And if you make sure I get to kill Harry, I'll join you."

Voldemort smirked. "Done."

"Where can I meet you?"

Voldemort smiled. "I'm already here."

"Don't insult my intelligence, your nothing more than some kind of projection. You wouldn't risk coming in person. You know as well as I do that Dumbledore set about a hundred wards around my quarters to make sure I'm not practicing dark magic, and you, Lord Voldemort bleed dark magic. Now either quit the fucking games or the deals off."

"Meet me on the outskirts of Hogsmead. I assume you know a alternative way of getting around the castle?"

"Of course."

"I shall see you soon." Slowly Voldemort's image disintegrated into a fine mist.

Hermione took a deep breath. She looked around her room, trying to decide what she was going to take with her.

There were mementos of her parents, dead now, along with Crookshanks. Her former friends here at Hogwarts. Clothing, books, the small amount of jewellery she owned.

"This isn't mine." She murmured aloud.

And it wasn't. It was the old Hermione Granger's things. None of it was her, at least not anymore. Laughing bitterly she summoned all of her former precious possessions into a pile.

The same bright blue flame she had used on Snape's robe back in first year, to save Harry's life erupted from her wand, lighting her things on fire. Smiling as she watched it burn she noticed a picture of her, Harry, and Ron, both boy's arms slung around her shoulders, they were all smiling. She watched as Harry bent down to kiss her lightly on the lips. Ron rolled his eyes at picture Harry and Hermione, but smiled anyway.

It was taken four months before everyone Remus was killed.

Sneering at the picture she watched as Harry and Ron were engulfed in flames.

Soon, she promised herself, she would see the real ones burn as well.

With a final smirk at the burning photo, she picked up her black cloak and left her room, and into her destiny.

A/N This is a two shot, the second chapter will be coming soon. Read and review please.