Lachesis
Second of the Moirai;
The one who measures of the thread of life


Hermione waited patiently for Thorfinn to reply. He had one of two choices to make; trust her and get out of this filthy hellhole, or he could rot here for the rest of his days. She had no doubt he'd make the right choice. All of them would, after all she had handpicked them because of their intelligence, their looks didn't hurt either. She sighed quietly and pushed his hair from his eyes. She knew he'd choose correctly, but a little incentive couldn't hurt.

"Thorfinn, think about what I'm offering you. A chance at freedom. A chance to burn the world and dance on its ashes. A chance to help me rebuild it into something far greater than you've ever imagined." She whispered leaning in closer.

His eyes locked with hers, and she couldn't help but marvel at the ocean that was his eyes, shades of gray and blue danced through them. She could tell she had him hooked, mentioning fire was a sure way to gain the pyromaniacs attention.

"What would you require of me, Princess?" He asked, his eyes searching hers.

Allowing a slow smile to spread across her face she replied, "Absolutely nothing, except to allow me to become a Queen. With you and some of your former brethren I intend to forge a new world. I won't ask for anything from you, because I know you'll give it willingly Thorfinn."

He nodded, "Anything my Queen."

Pulling out her wand she called forth a small marble. It shone a brilliant red, a sign of the fire within. Cupping one of his hands in hers, she gently placed the marble in his much larger hand.

"Listen very closely to what I'm about to say, Thorfinn. This marble will be how you escape from Azkaban. You must allow at least seven drops of your blood to be absorbed by it. Once it has been accepted, throw it to the floor hard enough for it to explode, it will then unleash a type of Fiendfyre that will transport you to me. You must wait two days before doing so. During those two days, you will receive another visitor, and they shall be the one to take the blame for your escape. Do you understand?" She stated searching his face for any sign of doubt.

He nodded and clenched the marble tightly. Smiling widely at him, she placed a soft kiss on his lips before stepping away to prevent it going further just yet.

Tapping her wand against the door, she left him there clutching to the marble like a lifeline.

Archibald was waiting for her as she left Thorfinn's cell. Smiling tightly at him she prepared herself for the next four Death Eaters. Although she didn't truthfully require any of them, she was going to be greedy just this once. By the time, she left here today she would have them all eating out of her hand. Voldemort had ruled them through fear, but she would do much better than that, she would make them love her. So much so that they would do anything for her, like perfectly trained hunting hounds. Ready to attack at her slightest approval, but unwilling to gain her disappointment by doing something without her permission.

Dumbledore had been right when he said love was the most powerful magic, and unlike the fool that Voldemort had been, she intended to exploit it. To have not one, but five powerful wizards loyal to her, bound because they chose to do so? Well, she would be able to pull off some intriguing magic indeed.

"Here we are. Inmate A259436 Antonin Dolohov." Archibald told her, performing the same wave of his wand from Thorfinn's cell. Interesting. Either the cells were keyed to Archibald's magical signature, or the wards for each cell were the same. For Archibald's sake, she hoped it were the former. Steeling her shoulders, she prepared herself for the most difficult meeting of today.

Antonin Dolohov had left his mark on her in the most unfortunate of ways. That purple flame curse of his had damn near killed her, and she was still smarting over it. Even ten years after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Now was her chance to be a little vindictive, while making him play right into her hands.

Walking in she couldn't help but notice the difference in how he awaited her, compared to Thorfinn. While Thorfinn had been curled into the corner like a wounded animal, Antonin stood tall and proud in the center of his cell. She took momentary pleasure in seeing the shock on his face, before she allowed herself to study him more closely. He was gaunt, with his Slavic features made more prominent due to hunger. Something she would have to rectify as soon as she was able. It wouldn't do for her Sentries to be weak.

His eyes were still sharp though, belying the intelligence that lurked there, along with the cruelty he had been known for. His nose was slightly more crooked since the last time she had seen him at the Battle of Hogwarts, leading her to believe that someone had decided to break his nose. No matter, she would allow him the pleasure of dealing with the culprit. After all, she wouldn't be able to do everything for him, or the others.

"Hello Antonin. Surprised to see me?" She asked stepping further into the room. She knew she could show no fear with this one, he had followed Voldemort for too long to accept a leader that he perceived to have a weakness. So, she would show him none.

Antonin's face lit up with a smile, although it was a little too cruel to be considered handsome, "Ah, vtáčik! You come to see me, even though you should be dead. How charming."

Hermione raised her eyebrow at the use of the pet name, "Little bird, Antonin? Really. Perhaps I should leave you here to rot instead of setting you free."

Antonin's eyebrows shot up at that. Obviously, he wasn't expecting her to know his native tongue or for her to offer him his freedom. "What is the catch? One would think you should wish me dead. Not granting me my freedom."

Hermione grinned vindictively, "The catch Antonin, is that you will bear a new scar, carved into your skin by me. As payback for the one you gifted me when I was fifteen."

Antonin hissed his disproval at the idea, but quickly lifted his shirt. "What's one more scar, when I can be free to roam the outside world again?"

Pulling a blade from the inside of her leather boot she giggled, sending ropes to suspend him from the ceiling by his arms. "This may hurt a bit."

With the first slice, he howled, with the second he began to sob. Hermione began to hum Mary Had a Little Lamb as she carved into Dolohov's flesh. The blade she was using was cursed to return any pain given by the victim by threefold, meaning Antonin was suffering the effects of his own personal curse times three. He may hate her for the pain at the moment, but she knew he would love her once he received his marble.


A/N: Wow! Thanks so much for the support guys. These next few chapter will be mostly introductory to the Death Eaters, and getting little insights to who Hermione is now. Keep in mind, that while she intends to have them fall for her, she has no intentions of falling in return. Our guys are gonna have to work to change her mind *wink wink* As always, please let me know if you're enjoying this story so far by leaving a review (I'll adore you for it!) Also I'm looking for a Beta, so any volunteers are welcome! Just let me know which stories you've Beta'd in the past, and I may send you a sample of the next chapter to see if we mesh well. Thanks!