Bellatrix's wand dug into Hermione's back as they walked down corridor after corridor. Hermione already had a feeling of where they were going. Voldemort would want an audience for this; there was no doubt about that.

Sure enough, Bellatrix turned the last corner and pushed Hermione toward the Dining Hall. Voices spilled loudly out of it, though they weren't the cheerful chatter of students.

Bellatrix threw the doors open with a bang, and every heard swiveled around to stare, student, teacher, and Death Eater alike.

Hermione fisted her hands at her sides as she took in the Dining Hall, so different from what she remembered. The light had been enchanted to look dull and gloomy, the ceiling that had reflected the weather outside permanently changed into a flat, depressing gray. The tables were full of students, somber and silent, keeping their heads down and avoiding eye contact. Hermione was certain they were being forced to attend Hogwarts; surely there was no other explanation for coming here.

The staff table had few familiar faces. There was no sign of Professors Sprout or Flitwick, though Hermione could see Professor Trelawney slumped in her chair, staring numbly at her full plate. The rest of the teachers appeared to be Death Eaters, with even more Death Eaters sitting at a table nearby, the source of the raucous noise.

And sitting on a chair that was at least a foot higher than the rest, long white fingers curled over the arms of his chair and snakelike eyes raking the room and coming to rest on Hermione, was Lord Voldemort.

He looked no different than he had the last time Hermione had seen him. His eyes were still piercingly red, his face flat with no lips and slits for a nose. In one hand he carelessly twiddled the Elder wand between his fingers. Hermione tensed at the sight of it, thinking of how that wand had been the wand that had killed Harry, that had doomed them all—

"Well," said Voldemort in his high, cold voice, and the room instantly went silent. "What have we here?"

Bellatrix spoke, her voice shaking with excitement and her eyes wide with reverence as she looked up at him. "The Mudblood Granger, my lord. As you requested."

His eyes narrowed at her. "I requested no Mudbloods. They tend to ruin my appetite," he said, and the Death Eaters roared with laughter. Hermione continued to stare at Voldemort, hating him more and more as the seconds ticked by.

Bellatrix, who had stepped forward to address Voldemort, looked like she had just been slapped in the face. "The boy," she spluttered, "he told me—"

"Never mind that." Voldemort rose from his chair, an imposing, pale figure, and slowly ghosted toward them. "I would not pass up an opportunity to speak with one of Harry Potter's dearest friends."

A hissing followed his words, and a massive snake slithered out from beneath the staff table, causing Professor Trelawney to shriek and nearly topple backward out of her chair. The rest of the teachers barely blinked at its sudden appearance. Tongue flicking in and out, Nagini wound her way around Voldemort until she was settled across his shoulders. He reached up and stroked her head with one long finger, still appraising Hermione.

Hermione stared hard at the snake, willing Ron, Ginny, and Neville to come soon. She imagined Ron running in with the Sword of Gryffindor in his hands, slicing the head off of Nagini and piercing Voldemort through the heart in the same swing—

What was she thinking? This was no time to daydream. She squared her shoulders and met Voldemort's red stare steadily, clearing her mind in case he tried to dig into her thoughts.

"Ah," he said softly. "I see you are a practiced Occlumens."

Hermione was fervently grateful for the lessons she had taken in her time helping the Order. She had never quite imagined being in this position, though…

"No matter. There is nothing in your mind that I wish to see."

"My lord," Bellatrix said, sweeping him a ridiculously low bow. "She walked straight into the castle willingly."

Voldemort's eyes flashed coldly. "She gave herself up?"

"No," said Hermione boldly, causing the watching eyes of the students and Death Eaters to flick to her. "I came to give you a message."

She was making this up wildly as she went along, hoping that it was not evident that she had no idea what she was talking about. A part of her screamed that this was extremely stupid, that she could get herself killed by lying like this, but she couldn't stop now.

"A message?" Voldemort sighed, the sound coming out more like a hiss. "The Order sends little girls to convey their messages now? They have grown even weaker than I thought."

"I am not a little girl. And the Order is stronger than ever," Hermione said fiercely. She wracked her brain frantically for something important enough that would warrant her walking to her own death. "They want you to know that they have found reinforcements, and they are coming for you." The words sounded hard and cold in her mouth, convincing.

For just a moment, she thought she saw a hint of doubt enter Voldemort's face before it passed and he gave her an icy smile that chilled her to the bone. "I do not fear the Order. My greatest enemies have been destroyed." He spread his arms out and looked around at the room full of people. The Death Eaters burst into roars of triumph, as if it had been only moments ago that they'd achieved their sought after victory, and not years. Some of the students, Hermione realized with a pang, joined in the shouting.

"You think you've gotten rid of all your enemies, do you?" What are you doing? a panicked voice whispered in Hermione's head. Shut up before you get yourself killed! But a fiery, angry feeling was growing inside of her chest, pushing words out of her mouth. She took a step toward him, and several Death Eaters tensed nearby, wands out and ready. "You're wrong."

"Is that so?" There was amusement in Voldemort's voice. He was not taking her seriously. This only made her angrier.

"It doesn't matter that Dumbledore's gone," Hermione said, her voice growing louder. "It doesn't matter that Harry's gone." She almost choked on the words. She forced herself to continue, her voice trembling slightly with anger, "As long as you are in power, you will always have enemies. You will always have people who want to tear you down, and someday, they will succeed."

"And you are that person, I suppose," hissed Voldemort, walking slowly closer. Hermione tried not to look at the wand that he still twirled between his fingers. "You think you've come here to kill me. I'm afraid that you are the one that is wrong, Hermione Granger."

Hermione shuddered at the sound of her name in his soft, cold voice. She began to grow uneasy as he walked ever closer, his eyes fixed on her. She did not want him any closer. In fact, she wanted to be as far away from him as possible, at the other end of the world.

He stopped in front of her and looked at her for a long moment. Hermione could hear Bellatrix's excited pants somewhere beside her, but she could not tear her eyes away from Voldemort's to look over. He seemed to have trapped her in his hateful, blood-colored eyes, keeping her prisoner.

"You are intelligent, I am told," he said softly. "More intelligent than most. Resourceful, as well. You would make a fine Death Eater."

Hermione felt disgusted. She opened her mouth to say something, or scream at him, or perhaps spit on his face. But he went on before she got the chance.

"It is a shame you are a filthy Mudblood, lower than slime."

Hermione squeezed her fingers into fists to keep them from shaking. She refused to break eye contact, though his eyes seemed to be burning into her, filling her with despair and fear and hatred.

"I would kill you where you stand," he whispered, "but you have information on the whereabouts of the Order."

"So you are afraid of them!" Hermione knew the words were foolish the moment they came out of her mouth.

He blinked, slowly, at her. "They pose no threat to me. Nevertheless, I will take great pleasure in killing them all."

With that he turned away, his robes billowing around him, and swept back toward his tall throne, saying coldly over his shoulder, "Put her somewhere until I am in need of her."

Bellatrix's fingers closed tightly around Hermione's arm, and before she knew it she was being whisked out of the hall, too frozen with shock to do anything about it.

Only when Bellatrix, cackling, had locked her in a small room that Hermione had no memory of from her own school days did she realize all the mistakes she had made.

Hermione leaned against the wall and slid slowly down it until she sat on the floor, putting her face in her hands. She had let her temper get the best of her; her tongue had run off and left logical thought far behind it. She had blown their plan, their only chance to get this over with. She was supposed to be creating a diversion large enough for her friends to make their move, not getting herself locked up!

She lifted her head and stared dully around the room, realizing for the first time that it was a small, empty classroom that had never been used, cleared off all furniture and decoration. Somehow, the windows had even been removed. She wondered how many cells like this one were placed throughout the school.

She sat that way a long time, rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm them, struggling against her despair as it threatened to overwhelm her. She had been foolish to think that she could do this; they had all been foolish. Bill and Fleur were right. What could the four of them do that the Order couldn't?

After a while, Hermione heard a key in the lock. She didn't bother looking up. It would only be Bellatrix, here to make good on her promise to torture her to death, or some other Death Eater come to mock her.

She was not expecting the soft, breathy, and familiar voice that she heard.

"They didn't put you in a very nice room, did they? I suppose that's because you said you wanted to kill You-Know-Who. Be careful, Barmwarts like to gather in empty rooms like this. They'll pull out all your hair if they get the chance."

Hermione's head snapped up. Standing in the threshold, eyes huge and luminous and still as distant as ever, was Luna Lovegood.

"Luna!" Hermione gasped, positively stunned. "How did you—why are you—what are you doing here?"

She gave Hermione a vague, slightly puzzled look. "Hello, Hermione. I'm here to get you out, of course."

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