Hello, everyone.

So, I am publishing this a little early, but there is a good reason for that.

For those who don't know, I'm a Brit, but I live in France since several years. And for those of you who are not lucky enough to live in a lost cave somewhere in Antartica, with pinguins as friends, as is my everlasting dream- just kidding, but it's something along those lines and I've never admitted that I'm not a Disney princess who can befriend birds and squirrels and whatnot- well, you know what happened to France during these past three days.

In this story, as we will see later, King Edward is a madman. His crazed beliefs cause him to wreak havoc upon his own country. Hermione is hope. The hope of everything that's good, everything that is worth standing for. This chapter is my response to those foolish enough to believe that they can conquer light with darkness, beauty with horror, and unity with their own delusional beliefs. Because Unity is important. Had Hermione not met the thieves, all hope would have been lost- as it is, together, they are strong.

Together, we are strong. We can stop terror. We can stop madness. We can, together, overthrow a mountain with a flick of the nail.

And this story, is of course a fictional romance, but it is also a story about hope and unity. I hope it will help, in its own way, with its words strung together and every emotion it may cause in its readers, to spark hope and unity. That is why I am publishing the next chapter tonight, and not in a few days.

I wish you a very nice read.

...

Hermione was left in the dark in regards to the crew's decision until Pompom decided that she could leave the hospital wing, three days later. Blaise smiled and said,

"Follow me, Princess. And do not try to bolt, you would not go anywhere and you would only result in angering us."

Hermione simply glared at him and replied in her best regal voice, which Blaise secretly found quite impressive,

"What would it change in my fate, as you foolish brutes are to murder me anyway?"

"You are not going to die," replied Blaise, making her jaw go slack in surprise and her eyes widen, "unless you ask for it, and trying to flee would be asking for it. Now, come."

Hermione decided that if she wanted to escape later, she should comply for now. Besides, she did not know where they were at all, as she had been out cold while arriving, and needed information upon her whereabouts.

She thus stalked, sulking, by her captor's side as they left Pompom's pompomdom.

They crossed a wide corridor carved in rock, well-lit by torches, and soon came upon a huge cavern, making Hermione's eyes widen once more because of the savage beauty of the place. The furniture was of the best kind, and thick rugs were strewn across the stone-flagged floor. They made it in silence to the door on the other side, through an arcade and into a bigger room. Blaise, who was secretly but surely observing the girl's reactions, smiled to see that even the Princess was impressed by the beauty and the richness of their dwellings.

"Is this place that big?" she asked suddenly.

"It goes on for kilometres," affirmed Blaise.

"And all so pretty and nice?"

"Well, this is the nicest part, because it is the crew's wing of the city, but citizen's homes are nice too. These are common parts of course, free for everyone of the crew and their families to roam."

"I don't understand what you are talking about. Crew? Citizens?"

"I'll explain later."

"Does all of this come from stealing?"

"In the common parts, yes. We are thieves, remember?"

"Yes. How many people did you murder, how many children did you leave in orphanage, how many women did you assault to rob them?" she asked, voice dripping in disdain.

To Hermione, everyone had a right to live. No-one should steal that, or others' happiness, in order to gain something for themselves. Unless the victim was criminal. One thing was for sure, give Hermione the chance and she would sentence these criminals to death.

Blaise seemed taken aback, and spluttered,

"We don't kill! Not if we can help it."

"Yet you are all trained to do so."

"No. We are trained to be thieves."

"What difference, if you are criminals all the same!"

Blaise sighed. He really, really believed the girl thought that too. She did not seem to be a beast like her father.

"We've arrived."

He motioned to a door sitting in the wall of a cavern, and she entered.

"Your rooms," said Blaise as she looked around in awe.

A huge bed upon thick, plush rugs was pushed against the far wall proudly. Four men could sleep in it without a care for space. Several plump armchairs were scattered before a low table in front of a roaring fire. Another door led to a bathroom in which the bath ressembled more a swimming pool and had golden taps, and yet another to a huge closet already brimming with dresses and shoes that, though far from being the clothes that the royal heir donned back in Gryffindor, were not those of a commoner either. Noble clothing. The bedroom was decorated in colors of red and gold, and she loved it. It was personal, not like the cold-looking, regal room she had back in the palace, where in the mornings people stood at the end of her bed by tens and watched her royal awakening and daily blessing. She would have her parents decorate it this way when she returned.

"Is it to your liking?" asked Blaise, interrupting her inner musings.

She was not going to tell her captor that she found it marvelous, so she snapped back,

"Well, I guess it will have to suffice. Are you asking me to be picky when I have no saying upon my own rights, namely, my freedom?"

He smiled, conceding that to her. Even if it really displeased her, and he knew it did not, it wasn't changing.

"Well, I guess we have some talking to do."

She sat down in front of the fire and motioned him to do the same. He coughed and launched himself.

"My name is Blaise Zabini and I am a member of the crew. You see, we live in this secret society, far from Gryffindor, in the desert, I must not tell you where. About two thousand people live here."

Her jaw dropped but she said nothing.

"Most of the people are living here as they would in a real, outside town. There are schools, and shops, and a hospital. There is a big lake where fishermen fish and people bathe. Some breed livestock and some harvest the underground soil. Those everyone refers to as the citizens. Then, there is, if you can call it that way, the higher society, though it isn't really as we have nothing like that here. No money- everything is on a trade basis. Anyway, that's the crew. I'm part of it. We are about fifty, and we are thieves. You see, sometimes you cannot only count on what you produce, and you go low on stock, and you then have to visit Gryffindor or other towns in order to buy what is needed but, as we have no money, we must take it. We see it as what the country owes us. However, we only steal from the rich and wealthy. The poorest person I have taken from was a land owner who had over three castles. Anyway, we steal, and we free slaves and whatnot."

"A criminal city," growled Hermione.

"No. The Captain will explain that better to you," decided Blaise. "The Captain is our chief and the founder of this society; people here are a mix of freed slaves, orphans, widowers, elderly people, beggars, and people who were condamned to death because they did nothing. And by nothing I mean something as trivial as coughing when a soldier walked past them in a bad mood or anything."

"Liar," muttered Hermione.

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"You tell that to the Captain," retorted Blaise. "His name is Draco Malfoy. Anyway, on with the point. The crew also manages the whole city. We are police, we are funds and we are judge. At the head of the crew sits a council of twelve. I am one of them. We make important decisions and all, a bit like ministers. We are called the Greats by most of people here. So, we, the Greats, decided not to kill you and not to let you leave; I find you witty, and I think you quite clever, you'll figure out why easily. Anyway, what happens is this: you'll be locked in this room and heavily guarded in the nights and when none of the Greats can survey you. Each day, one of us shall fetch you, and you may follow us around and divert yourself with sewing or reading or something while we go about our business. Right?"

For now Hermione decided wiser to nod quietly, stocking the information. She then asked,

"Can you then tell me more about the people, the...Greats? Who will survey me."

Blaise rubbed his hands together and muttered,

"Well, where to start?"

"With you, silly," retorted the Princess, rolling her eyes.

"Ah! Yes. Well, I am one of the Captain's greatest friends. I've been beside him since childhood. Our parents were slaughtered, you see."

She winced and bit her lip. He smiled in reassurance, not wanting to tell her that it was the King who had ordered on a whim for their village to be burned to a crisp.

"So, he decided to do this and though I thought him mad, I followed. After, it became easy...we came to this place aged fourteen. Six years ago. The place built itself up, and our society expanded, with still new arrivals nearly daily. I'm well trained in the art of becoming a shadow, willing myself into darkness, donning disguises. You see?"

She nodded and he continued.

"Then, Theodore. He was another survivor from our village and we knew him. He's quiet and harsh, but he's been through a lot, so...anyway, he found us a few weeks after we got here. He is a real master in gathering knowledge about our enemies or for future stealing; he knows and is known by every single criminal out there, but unlike most of them he has honor. He's quite cold-handed though.

You awoke to Pansy the other day. Well, Pansy. We knew her too from childhood, even though she lived in a different village. She is a scornful pain in the behind, and nasty too, though very clever. They call her the Queen of Blades. She has weapons all over her body. Legs, arms, torso...she is not a woman to cross. A real nightmare. She has always been quite inverted, but beware. She's faster than the best when flicking a blade.

After, who have you met? Ah, yes, of course. Ginny. She's quite warm and sweet once you get to know her, and she quite likes playing pranks too. She's the youngest of six brothers, so nothing comes in her way. She's very nice and all, but to her enemies she holds little pity, without Pansy's bloodlust though. She's an expert in poisoning, knows each and every plant in the world by heart.

The others you have not met yet. Luna is a Seer; she has visions. In Hogwarts, Seers are put to death, but it is very useful to have one. She may seem dreamy and frail, but she is trained as well, and shall show no pity if the need is.

Harry is a good guy, really wise if a little...impulsive. He's nice, very much so. He's grand with a sword in hand. I'm sure that if you had to get along with anyone here, it would be him.

Seamus is not from Hogwarts, and he was a pirate before coming here. He's unforgiving, and he swears more than he talks; he has little to no manners either, but he's a really good guy should you get to know him. Champion in explosives too, and quite a hit with gunpowder weapons.

Then you have Dean, Seamus' best mate. He's quite the gentle person. Dean is, you could say, our nurse. He has a soothing voice, sings beautifully and plays even better. People like him because he doesn't harm anyone if he can help it and he tends quickly to help us should we be hurt when stealing, as we can't bring Pompom with us. He'll replace her one day as head of the crew hospital where you have been staying. Though if needed, he can be quite the man with a dagger.

Daphne is probably the prettiest and one of the most dangerous of the crew. She's a wanton woman, too, and is often sent as a diplomat, because of her ability to seduce anyone to have her way, and also into men's beds if needed for a mission. She'll slice your throat while smiling, and she may be even worse than Pansy, because Pansy does so as her temper is short, but Daphne does it by liking. She's calculating though, and shouldn't hurt you...unlike Pansy. Daphne's younger sister, Astoria, is what you may call a whore. Beware. However, you'll not be in Astoria's care as she is not a Great, but mere member of the crew. Beside that, Daphne is invincible or almost with a rope or a whip or a leash; she can lasso you and break your neck in a second. That, and she loves her dagger.

As for the Captain...you'll manage him, I'm sure. He's charming, and clever, but he won't hurt you unless you push him to do just that. Quite the catch, too, but he likes to play with woman, so...careful."

Blaise trailed off, and Hermione, carefully storing the information, cast him a disgusted look,

"As if I'd ever want to play with him or with any of you for that matter! But you forgot two people."

"Yeah, Vincent and Gregory. You need not to mind; they are wardrobe-huge and rock-hard and they are bodyguards, but also the Captain's friends. Those two won't be guarding you anyway."

Hermione nodded slowly.

"Now come. I'll show you around."

...

The next day, Hermione was awoken at what must have been dawn to glittering, emerald eyes, set in quite a handsome face, with jet-black ruffled hair, a scar in the form of lightning on the forehead, and a huge grin that almost made her want to mimick it.

"Hello, Your Highness," said the young man. "Sorry to wake you, but if you'd like some breakfast, they don't serve it after six in the morning for the Greats. They like to take away our fun and sleeping in."

She couldn't help but laugh as he pouted, and got up. He averted his eyes and blushed upon noticing that she only wore a nightdress made out of simple white cotton and she smiled.

"Oh, come on! Back at the palace, at least fifty people saw me get up every morning."

His eyes widened:

"What? What for?"

"Duties, tradition and all, you know. Women must not be seen in such a way, except the Queen and heir when it is a girl. They have the honor..." she winced, "to see me getting blessed and all when I awaken."

He stared at her, then muttered,

"Weird."

"Yes, I know," she giggled.

Really, this boy's visible niceness was getting to her.

"By the way, name's Harry, Harry Potter," he said as an afterthought. "I would bend down on one knee and kiss your hand, but I must be the clumsiest guy in the world, so if you don't mind, Your Highness, I'd rather not make a fool of myself and fall flat on my face."

She burst out laughing. Blaise was right. If she could befriend one person here, it was this Harry.

"Don't worry, I don't mind in the least. And stop with the Highness stuff. Call me Hermione."

He seemed uneasy.

"Are you sure?"

"I am. Only two people in the world call me that, the other person being Pompom," she replied, eyes twinkling. "Second will be you." She thought it over, then added in a cold voice, "you are the only one though. I don't want others calling me that. They are all so nasty. Except Blaise, but he abducted me, so I cannot really go around asking him to call me that, can I?"

Harry coughed and replied meekly.

"Um, yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Anyway," he brightened up, "what about you get dressed, Hermione? My stomach is starting to plot to murder me. If I don't get breakfast, I'm afraid it will succeed."

Upon another burst of laughter, Hermione threw on a light blue dress and pulled her hair up in a twist, before taking Harry's offered arm and following him to the Dining Cavern.

"Who will be at breakfast?" she asked, suddenly uneasy.

"All of the Greats," he replied.

She slowed down and muttered,

"Oh, no. Besides, they all hate me, and I wonder why."

Harry stopped to look at her, gravely, his body tense.

"Are you really asking why, Hermione?"

She shrugged.

"Because I'm rich, because I'm royalty while they are thieves and criminals?"

He stared at her in silence for a while.

"Only part of your answer is right. They do hate you, enough to shed your blood, because you are royalty."

"But why?" she blurted out. "I don't understand what I did wrong, or my family for that matter. It's not my fault I am born heir of Hogwarts Kingdom!"

He seemed uneasy suddenly.

"Hermione, what do you know of politics?"

"Little," she replied in confusion. "Father wished to include me in such business only upon my twenty-first birthday in a few months, when I shall be considered an adult. Why?"

"Because, to say it nicely, at the least, your parents, and especially your father, are very bad rulers."

"Well, maybe, but ruling is a difficult task, yes? You cannot really ask people to be able to plant gold when you give them charcoal seeds. They try, hard, but it doesn't work?"

"That is not the way I meant it," replied Harry, slowly starting to walk on. "I mean that the King is a cruel person, Hermione. He hurts people for free. His guards are wreaking terror and havoc in his name and under his orders in the land. He thinks that making people fear him will make them quiet and unable to rebel, and he is partly right."

"Father would not," said Hermione slowly; "you think that because you are a criminal, a thief! Most don't think that."

"Do you like reading, Hermione?" he asked all of a sudden.

"Um...yes, I do, a lot, I adore that in fact...but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Then I'll show you something after breakfast. We are arriving."

Hermione did not have time to take a breath and steady herself before Harry pulled her in the Dining Cavern with him. Blaise had shown this room to her yesterday, saying that breakfast was the only meal she would take with them, the others being in her room, as in the mornings, she could thus take orders from the group. She had bristled that they, common thieves, would make her, Princess of a Kingdom she would inherit, carry out orders. But she knew she must play coy if she wanted to escape someday.

There was a dining table laid with amounts of food, and at the head of it the Captain; the others had the same seats they had at the meeting, as a tacite decision. The bubbling laughter, voices, and the odd shout that had resounded before their entry stopped suddenly upon her appearance, and cold hate washed through the room, which the Princess returned but with unease. She wanted to cry.

The Captain suddenly stood, and she saw him for the first time. Her jaw almost went slack.

He was beautifully handsome, and she took in his cool demeanour as an odd tingling pulled through her lower stomach. Then she looked up into those marvelous, legendary grey blue eyes, and almost took a step back at all the hatred she met in them. Then all of a sudden, the hate was gone, leaving place to a cool indifference, so much that she almost thought she imagined the burning passion in them a moment before.

"Your Highness," he stated coldly. "Please sit."

Harry gave her a reassuring smile she could not return and dragged her to sit in the lone seat to his right. The silence was deafening. Harry, though, pretended to ignore it:

"Hermione," he asked with a smile, turning to her, "eggs? Sausage? Tea?"

"I," she faltered. "I'm not hungry."

Suddenly, Ginny, on Harry's left, piped up, looking at her with malicious eyes:

"Don't worry, Princess. It is not poisoned."

Others around the table, save Harry and Blaise, sniggered and shot the woman knowing looks. Even Draco managed a wry smile.

"Oh, I'm not worried that it is poisoned," replied Hermione on an even tone, returning the redhead's malicious gaze, "I just do not want to eat food that you robbed from someone who hadn't asked a thing in the world and was probably slaughtered after the theft."

Silence fell upon them as the laughs ceased. Hermione's cutting words set in like a punch in the gut. Ginny glared at her, hand swiftly landing on the rapier she kept in her belt:

"Why you little..."

"Ladies, ladies," announced loudly Harry, bustling to charge Hermione's plate with food, "I think that is quite enough. Each of you got a say. Now, on with the meal, I am famished."

Hermione, though her stomach was rumbling, did not touch the food and bitterly pushed her plate away. Draco's eyes fell upon her hand as she did so and he recognized the aristocratic features in them. Dainty, petite and white. He shook his head and turned to listen to Blaise, who was babbling on about how the new money, stolen from the Princess' palace, would be best to use. The Captain tried his best, and succeeded, in not looking again at her.

Though Harry invited her softly to eat several times, Hermione did not, and as she was not included in any other conversation, she soon got bored. Finally, everyone finished, and got up to leave. Harry, again, dragged her along.

"Some use that was," she noticed spitefully. "Well, next time, I'll take blasted orders from my room, thank you very much."

Harry merely chuckled and replied,

"Today, we are going to the library, which is a good thing. I need to look up a few records to manage the funds, and I'd like to show you something."

Hermione perked up.

"You have a library? Seriously?"

He laughed and answered,

"Sure thing. Here."

He opened a door, and Hermione gasped.

The cavern was huge, and absolutely brimming with shelves of books. It was cosy, with a fireplace and rugs and plump seats like in her room, and all she ever needed was here. God, she would even barter her room against this.

Harry grinned at her reaction.

"Well, Hermione, it's probably not as big as the one in your palace, but it still has pride. I for myself am not one for reading so it's more than enough."

"I don't know," came back her awed reply.

"Sorry?"

"I don't know if it is bigger than the palace library or not."

Harry was confused:

"I don't understand. If you love reading so much, you should have spent time in there, no?"

"No."

The answer was oddly sad.

"You see, Father deemed that too many books in the palace library were unfit for a young lady. He'd only let me see them at twenty-one. If I wished to read, I'd ask a servant to bring me books on a subject or another."

Harry simply nodded, though he was less naïve than her. More like, her father kept records of his crimes in the library and did not wish for his daughter to stumble upon them until she could handle it and was ready to receive education to become a bloodlusting tyran like him. To Harry's advice, the man had already planned on how to make his daughter a nasty, murderous sovereign like himself. He had waited so long to be perfectly able to know what would make her receptive to him. The man wasn't only a beast, he was a sick, calculating bastard who would make a monster out of her. Now Harry knew that Hermione truly never had a say in the Kingdom's government. She didn't even have a say on where she was allowed to go, for God's sake.

"It's the first time I've ever left the palace, too," noted Hermione to herself, but Harry still heard. "Never been further than the stables for my riding lessons."

Oh, so Daddy Tyran even cut her from the world, not letting her sneak a peep at the poor, terrified city around the lush palace. Harry was disgusted, but Hermione needed to learn things the hard way and stop considering her father as some half-god.

He motioned for her to sit and, a few minutes later, came back with several books.

"Here for you. It's what I wanted to show you about how this Kingdom is ruled. I'll be over by the fire if you need me."

She nodded, greedily pulling a book toward her. Hogwarts, a History. She opened it and began to read.

...

An hour later, Hermione was white and trembling as she pulled the last book from the pile. She'd only fluttered over most of the others, the details mocking her agony. She read the title, A Guide to the Ruling Families of the World, and opened at the Hogwarts chapter, section Granger.

The Grangers have been on the throne since about two hundred years, as the first Granger, King Richard the Cruel, murdered his brother-in-law, last of the Paisley family, for the throne. He ruled from 1457 to 1498, when his son, King Richard II said the Executioner, murdered him for the crown.

Hermione's eyes blurred with tears as she skipped down to:

Today, the son of the last, King Edward the Evil, is ruling since 1660, date of birth of his daughter, Princess Hermione Granger, heir and only child of the King. The King is well known for being the most murderous and unforgiving of the whole Granger family. The Slaughter of Midnight in 1676 is known as an act of King Edward the Cruel's fury, during which he had his whole army assault several villages led by different small nobles against his madness: the Malfoy clan, the Zabini clan, the Parkinson clan, the Potter clan, and the Nott clan especially were slaughtered: men were tortured, children were murdered and women were raped. The King ordered in 1674 to peasants across the land to turn in their whole crop harvest through the Peasant Law, to feed the palace. Very few dared disobey and those who did were killed. The others turned in indeed, and were forced to live only on what they could save to subsist.

Hermione had had enough. She slammed the book closed, tears streaming down her face without stopping. Many sentences that she did not understand came back to her. Ginny's story about her peasant parents murdered, Blaise saying that several of them came from wiped out villages. Parvati and Padma saying that the King would have their heads for saying her name. The guards' behavior in the city of Gryffindor when she left the palace.

She was such a fool. How dare she look these people in the eye and sneer at their petty crimes for survival?

She came from a long line of murderers and madmen herself. The Grangers had gone through history being known as "the Red family" because of the blood they shed. She did not know a thing about this but she could only thank the deities that she had been captured and enslaved before her familial, mad streak turned out and she, too, began slaughtering the masses.

Of course, she would not become a lamb and let the thieves push her around; she would stand tall and proud because she was a Princess, not because she was a Granger.

But for now, the shock was too great. She leaped up, sending her chair cluttering on the floor and threw herself at Harry's feet.

He was reading a record, comfortable in an armchair, when she thrust herself to the floor at his feet after a falling chair resounded. Her cheeks were a deathly white, tears were streaming down her face without ceasing, her eyes were red and bloodshot, she was trembling so much it resembled convulsing, and her bare arms bore the nervous signs of nails, bleeding.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, worried, throwing his record to a side and seizing her hand.

"Is it true?"

Her teeth were chattering so much that it took her several minutes to form the words. He frowned. For someone who was generally supposed to hold a genetical murderous streak and even participate in her father's mad decisions, it was devastating. He then wondered if she really was anything like her family at all. And he had perhaps done a bad thing forcing the knowledge upon her.

He sighed though, and answered.

"Every bit of it. And I only gave you the soft version books, that are not even under censorship."

She howled at that, buried her face in her hands, and promptly passed out.

...

So not much happening this chapter, but at least everything is set for the rest of the story. I wanted at least to introduce the inner workings of Slytherin's Pit to you, dear readers. And how will Hermione react now that she's read the truth?

Sooo, Hermione and Draco finally meet...and in the next chapter, there will be a lot of interaction between them.

Please read and review, and see you very soon!