A/N: Truthfully, this story came before Train to the Kingdom, but I was always so indecisive of whether or not the plot was good enough. So technically, this is my very first fanfiction. This is also available on Wattpad: LyraMiranda if you'd like to read it there. Thank you for reading.


Darker than Death

Prologue


Immense pain erupted throughout her limbs.

M

She was unsure of what could have caused it to become so incredibly unbearable. Whether it was the mocking joviality of her perpetrators or the mere feeling, she did not know. She was only aware of the fact that it was truly and completely unbearable.

U

It was only a knife. Although it may not have made the situation any better, a simple knife should have only been able to affect the area of attention. At least, that was what she believed at the time. Perhaps it was poisoned, she had thought. It's not like she never felt one pierce her skin before. She can recall many instances where she had accidentally aimed a little too far when helping her mother chop some carrots.

D

Just the thought of her parents increased the pain. She could almost feel something rip deep within her chest where she figured her heartstrings had resided. You'll never see them again, they had told her beforehand. They're dead, they had laughed.

B

At first, she absolutely refused to believe it. She denied everything; attempted to call for them to save her from the madmen. It was all a joke, she reassured herself even as the woman with dark, untamed hair similar to her own crackled with glee.

L

But deep within, she knew it was true. She had witnessed it firsthand. The strange green glow appeared from the end of the stick, almost like a firecracker, and shot through the air towards her parents. Their bodies dropped on impact, their eyes left dull and lifeless.

O

She had no time to react, for they already had her within their grasp. She struggled and screamed and kicked and cried, but not once had their hold loosened. Even as she felt an odd, sickening twist of her stomach, they remained undeterred with smug smiles stretched across their faces. One second she was at home, then she found herself in front of a grand castle in the blink of an eye.

O

Now they were here. In a room without a single piece of furniture in sight. She had thought the figures with shiny masks and black cloaks had been mannequins or statues of some sort until one of them moved. They formed half a circle at the end of the room and she was thrown in the middle of it. The two men who had thrown her kept her arms restrained as the lady in all black straddled her, whipping out the knife and carving into her forearm without hesitation.

D

Even as her screams reverberated around the room, it was unable to drown out the mocking laughter. Until finally, the knife was withdrawn. Although the laughter and pain did not cease, she was relieved that it was no longer ripping her skin. The tears upon her cheeks had uncomfortably dried, her lungs burning with fatigue. The woman had smiled down at her sinisterly as she grabbed her arm and presented her work. Don't forget who you are, the woman hissed.

And Hermione Granger would never forget.

How could she? For it was permanently carved into her arm, branding her forever. Even as she walked through the corridors of the castle, her chin held high, books held close to her chest, long sleeves covering the hideous scar, she could never forget. It was who she was and who she would always be.

Mudblood.