Disclaimer: I don't really like putting these on all chapters, so consider this a disclaimer for the whole story: I don't own anything Harry Potter related and I just like to play in its world!
Summary: Only 5 years after Voldemort's fall the Wizarding world is under a new Dark rule. Hermione finds herself the last mudblood on the run with the traitor Draco Malfoy. How did it come to this? Secrets, lies, and lust... and the bad nobody admits is in them.
Rating: M. Very dark. Language. Violence. Sex (though probably no lemons but definitely a theme in the story).
A/N: Yes, I'm reposting the first three chapters because guess what? I got a beta! And she's great! Thank you, Sierra, for making this story more than I thought it could be! :) Please bare with me as I get this story up. It won't be as fast as my other stories, but this one needs more time as it's much more complex.
The Last Mudblood
Chapter One
She dashed down the alley in the pouring rain. The cement beneath her was slippery wet. She was making a lot of noise with her fast steps as she ran away from one of them, but it didn't matter. She had a Disillusionment Charm cast on her the moment she decided to step back into London, which was a bad choice altogether, but it didn't matter now. The current objective was to get the fuck out of wherever she was and take as many down with her as possible.
"Finite!" the man yelled behind her, and instantly she felt the charm remove itself.
"Fuck," she muttered under her breath. She turned around swiftly, pointed her wand at him while still running and thought "Avada Kedavra!" A jet of green light flew right into his chest and he fell on the spot instantly, dead.
She wasn't stupid. There were more behind him, so no need to stop and gloat about her latest kill. She kept running, dashing into another alley. She heard others coming and was hoping to reach the barrier where she could finally Apparate out of the awful city. She didn't know why she thought it was possibly safe enough to come back, but again, her main focus was to survive.
The steps were faster and getting closer. She guessed there were probably three of them on her tail now. An easy kill, but not on a dark night in the pouring rain, and not when she'd be bombarded by more when once she was through with them.
"Stupefy!" one of them cried, sending a jet of red light that narrowly missed her as she turned another alley.
Unfortunately, as she turned, she ran into someone and fell over.
"Fuck!" she screamed, trying to get up as fast as she could and kill whoever just bumped into her. She was definitely slowed down and any minute now they'd catch her and now she had to deal with this one.
She didn't have time to kill the person, however, because under his black, hooded cloak, he yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!" and she was immobile on the floor.
Fuck, she was dead now. She didn't know who it was and why he didn't just instantly kill her, but she thought maybe it was because he wanted to collect a reward for her capture, or maybe her disguise worked and she wasn't noticed. She had a high bounty price over her head, after all, and the new leader of the Dark side probably wanted to do away with her himself.
But she was surprised in all her anger when he pulled out a cloak from beneath his robes and threw it over her body. It was Harry Potter's cloak. She wanted to stab whoever was beneath the robes until he begged for her to just finish him already. How dare he use Harry's cloak? Fucking bastard.
He threw off his hood as the three men approached, and Merlin's fucking beard, it was the second in command to the leader himself.
"Draco," said one of the three men, panting, "We were chasing someone – we think it's her, sir."
Draco Malfoy looked at them coldly and said, "No one's been here."
"But, sir, we saw her kill someone. She didn't even need to say anything -" another one said.
Draco cut him off. "Are you implying that I am blind? That I may have missed Hermione Granger herself?"
"She may have Disapparated…" the third one said.
"Or climbed the building," said the other.
"No," the first one said stubbornly, "I saw her turn this corner – I did!"
Draco hissed at them, "Get out of my sight before I kill you myself!"
The three cowered and quickly ran off.
Without any words, Draco flicked his wand and moved a dumpster out of the way. Beneath it was a small trapdoor. He opened it and pointed to Hermione, levitating her down into the trapdoor.
Fuck, she was really dead now.. She knew she'd die eventually, but she certainly didn't want it to be by the hands of Draco fucking Malfoy. She'd rather just have been killed by whoever led this fucked up rule himself, not this ass-kissing coward. At least then she would've had a challenge.
Hermione found herself lying on the floor in a dark and cold room, still immobile. Draco came down after locking the trapdoor and lit some candles. Hermione could see the room now. It was the size of a broom closet, with only two chairs and a wooden storage for what she guessed was food and drinks.
Draco took the cloak off of her and put it back inside his robes. With another flick of his wand he had her tied to a chair and gagged with some piece of cloth that tasted like dirt in her mouth.
She glared as he looked at her intently. He might not know who she was, not if he didn't look closely. She made sure to make herself as naturally different looking as possible, refusing to use magic since it could be easily countered. She dyed her hair black, had it sleeked straight and falling all the way down to her lower back, and wore green eye contacts at all times. Under her form-fitting black robes she wore a black long sleeve turtle neck and straight-legged black pants. She looked nothing like anyone had remembered her.
But she figured they probably knew that she'd changed her look. Still, she hoped the idiot Draco wasn't smart enough to see that.
"It is you," he finally said darkly. "Don't try anything. I've got your wand and you're tied up by ropes that won't budge under any circumstances but my own. Finite."
Hermione could feel her limbs again just as Draco removed the cloth on her mouth.
"Why haven't you killed me yet, you piece of shit? Waiting to be rewarded by the big boss?" Hermione said ruthlessly.
"I don't need any rewards from him," Draco spat out darkly.
"You're so fucking pathetic, Draco. Either take me to him or kill me yourself."
He remained patient, but had a hard look on his face. "I'm not going to take you anywhere or kill you."
Hermione thought he might try something stupid, like rape her. "If you even think about touching me I'll kick you in the balls so hard you'll think you'd lost them. And before you could even recover I'll have castrated you with my bare hands."
He didn't look at all alarmed at this. She figured he'd probably heard worse from other of her friends who'd been in the same situation before they were killed.
Some stirring from above had Draco's eyes widen and he began cursing, "Fuck." He set a couple more wards on his trap door, and for good measure he said, "Muffliato."
"Now you listen here, you prat. Any moment now, everyone up there is going to figure out that they need to capture me too. So you listen or we're both fucking dead."
Hermione gave a cold laugh. "You expect me to believe that?"
Voices above could be heard. The conversation sounded shocked and angered at the same time.
"He's defected? Draco Malfoy's defected?" one said.
"Bloody hell," another muttered, "It must be a mistake. Why the fuck would Malfoy defect?"
"No idea," the first replied.
Hermione couldn't pay attention anymore because of Draco's booming voice.
"Pay attention. They're going to figure out this trap is here and find us. Are you going to cooperate or not?" he yelled through gritted teeth.
"I don't need to cooperate with you. Just fucking kill me and go run along," Hermione spat. She'd honestly rather die than be on the run with Draco, especially after all the bad blood between them now.
He suddenly lifted the sleeve on his right arm and there branded was the mark of the Deathly Hallows – Harry's mark.
Hermione's eyes went wide. But she knew, right? That's why she was here. Because the tally under the mark went back to two from one so someone else had to have had the mark too. Her eyes darkened when she realized it wasn't because one of them had come back to life…
"What did you do to him? Where is he?"
"You know what happened to him," Draco said coldly.
There was no way anyone other than Harry Potter could have given Draco that mark because Harry was the only one who had the power to do it. But there was no way Draco could have gotten it from Harry, not unless it was by force.
"How'd you get it?"
"He gave it to me."
"Fuck you. You're lying," she said.
"Yes, I'm lying," he rolled his eyes. "You know just as well as I that Potter was the only one who could give me this mark."
Banging on the trapdoor above finally had them ending the conversation at hand. A cup on the floor was turning blue. Draco quickly waved his wand and Hermione was no longer tied up. She stood up and was about to kick him and retrieve her wand, but she realized that she couldn't move her right arm without moving Draco's left arm. He had them bound by some invisible chain. She glared at him.
"Take it off," she said.
"Portkey. Touch it now!" he said. When she didn't, he just tugged on his left arm and had them both touching it and spinning into the darkness.
They landed on a very cold floor. There were small cells in the stony hall around them and nothing but a single candle down the hall.
"Where are we?" Hermione asked, as he forced her to get up.
"The dungeons at the Manor. There are some things I need to get before we go," Draco said and ran down the hall. At the end of the hall there was a door that opened to a small office space. There were books on shelves, lit candles, two dark chairs in front of a desk, and one large chair behind the desk. The desk already had many possessions that Draco started putting in a small black bag that was on the desk.
"Give me my wand," Hermione demanded.
"No. You're going to run away," Draco said absentmindedly.
"Of course I'm going to leave. What makes you think I want to stick around with you?" She asked hotly. Even though Draco had Harry's mark, she wasn't completely sure of what the hell was going on, and Draco Malfoy was the last person she wanted to start trusting. She didn't trust anyone other than Harry for the last year, and she wouldn't start now.
Draco slammed his fist on the table unexpectedly, slamming her hand with it. She yelped and cursed wildly.
"Potter told me to keep you around, okay? I'd like nothing more than to have left you to die and do this by myself, but he made me swear-"
Hermione interrupted, "What makes you think I believe that rubbish?"
"Didn't you see the mark? Fuck, Granger. Think. And shut up for a second." Draco continued to pack things into the small black bag. She suspected it was charmed to fit more than it looked like. He threw in a few vials of liquids, a broom, a knife, some small boxes, and some rolls of parchment.
"Fuck you," she said, though her tough exterior was beginning to fade. It was clear that Harry had entrusted something to Draco before he was killed. Though she came back to London expecting to die and take down a few with her, Draco clearly had a plan - possibly Harry's plan - to carry out, and she was obviously supposed to be a part of it.
Harry and Hermione had been the last survivors as told by the mark of the Hallows on her right arm. Under the mark were lines indicating the number of survivors Harry had managed to mark, survivors that were still on the run, attempting to take down anyone they could with them. Over the last year, the ten lines disappeared one by one, sometimes two by two, until only two lines were left. The morning when Harry and Hermione discovered that it was only them two left they looked at each other, both unable to express anything but worn, hard faces.
In the beginning they used to weep. They used to clutch each other at night under the invisibility cloak and a few protective wards. After the lines went down to five, they stopped crying and focused solely on surviving and killing as many of the bad guys as possible. They had become vicious murderers. Both of them finally knew what it was like to kill, to rip the soul apart. They'd killed so much, learned so much Dark magic, and acquired so many Dark and useful skills, that Hermione wondered if what they were doing would grant them a free pass to hell itself, but she decided she didn't care. In that year, they needed to survive.
They knew nothing of how it all happened, only gathered information from random passersby and strangers who'd mentioned it in different places, different countries.
"Draco's behind it," whispered one person while they were still in the UK, thinking some parts may have still been safe.
"Not really, he's only second in command," the other hissed, "No one talks about who he's under…"
When Harry and Hermione heard this particular news they looked at each other darkly. Hermione's thoughts consisted of mainly how much of a fucking traitor and coward he was and how could they be so foolish to believe Draco had actually been their friend?
Another time, Hermione and Harry overheard another couple of people discussing it in Scotland.
"His parents – the Malfoys – they're dead," said a woman.
"Wonder if Malfoy knows it was all planned by their friends–"
"Would you shut up? You don't know who could be listening!"
Harry and Hermione found out that a fair amount of muggle-borns and blood traitors in the UK died in the explosion and those that managed to get away or just didn't show up were being hunted and important ministry officials had already been killed during the night of the explosion. It was a coup of the Wizarding world in the UK. The Dark side had taken over in the UK completely. Other Wizarding Ministries of different countries refused to help the UK. It was a danger zone and no one wanted to get involved for fear of their own country falling as well, so they just pretended the UK didn't exist. A simple X on the map.
The newspapers from London later confirmed the tally on their mark, declaring that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were the last of the tainted who needed to be captured and killed. It was the Undesirable hunt all over again.
Harry soon became delirious and Hermione didn't know why. After all, she'd been through just the same but she managed to numb it. But Harry was cracking. It was like he couldn't do it anymore. He started saying that they needed to go back to London to find the rest of them.
"They're dead, Harry," Hermione said in a soft but very blank voice. "All of them. Everyone: Luna, Neville, George, Lavender, Dean, Percy, Ron and Ginny. The mark says so."
Harry told her she was being a pessimist and the mark could make mistakes and he gave her the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. He must have run off in the middle of the night to try and save nobody, because the next morning Hermione found herself alone. By night time, there was only one line under the mark.
She was the one that everyone was hunting for now. She was the last mudblood.
ooo
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