Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any claims of ownership.

Additionally, this story features offensive language and imagery, proceed at your own discretion.

A Change of Perspective

Interlude

Knowing that you're so close to death seems to end with the acceptance of your coming demise. Or so the cliché goes.

Amanda Barencroft was far from ready to die. She was terrified of it. There was so much she'd been looking forward to. Dreams she'll never see accomplished.

How different things may have been for her if she'd just accepted her fate. If she went along with those… monstrous things.

She'd been able to recall it ever so clearly since her first day. The hate kept her sane. Kept her focused and alive for as long as she had been.

Amanda had had only so many romantic engagements in her life, she wondered if that was what made her such an appealing target.

It was frowned upon for a woman to not have a husband, but pursuing those things had never been kind to her.

Instead of serving as the dutiful housewife, Amanda spent her free time reading. Most of it was in German, which she was very fluent in of course, but she did own a few… illegal English books she'd hidden in the floorboards just like her father taught her to. Because she'd wanted to learn what the country had been like before.

As Amanda turned the page, she picked up the sound of a vehicle coming to a stop outside of her house. She frowned.

The bang of a door shutting came next, followed by soft muttering that was far too loud to Amanda. The sound of boots crunching on gravel as they took step after step towards her front door made her heart start beating faster.

A moment of silence, and then the person on the other side of the door rapt their knuckles against the wood.

Amanda swiftly marked her page and moved towards the door. It wouldn't be a good idea to keep them waiting.

One hand on the door, the other smoothed her dress out, and then she pried it open with a heavy heart.

It was the man she had hoped to go her entire life without seeing in person. His presence only meant disaster, she was sure of it.

The man was dressed head to toe in a Schutzstaffel uniform, and a totenkopf hat, which she was positive had a more pristine name, but she never learned nor cared. The actual man's only distinguishing features were the stubble around his face and his impressive height.

Amanda hid her swallow. "Kommandant Fox," she smiled in greeting.

Elliot Fox was the commander of one of the three Waffen-SS legions. He was also the one most public one, seeming to provide interviews at any given opportunity. Beyond his more military accomplishments, Amanda didn't know too much about him.

"Fräulein Barencroft," the man greeted in a false German accent. "I have been very much looking forward to meeting you. Might I come in?" He took his hat off and gestured inside.

Amanda entertained of telling the man that 'No, you can't come in' before instantly pushing the thought to the very bounds of her head. "Of course," she held the door open.

Fox gave her a large smile and stepped inside, bending his head down slightly to avoid bumping into the doorframe.

"I don't suppose you'll mind if my men wait outside, will you?" he asked like she had any option in the matter.

"No, that's not an issue."

"Wunderbar."

Fox stepped further into her house, smiling at photos of Amanda and her father and mother.

"This is your family?" Fox asked, taking the photo into his hands. Amanda wanted to rip it out of his hands, he had no right to touch it.

"My mother and father," Amanda said instead.

"They bred very well," Fox complimented, and Amanda hated the fact he referred to her like she was a prized bull. He put the photo down and continued on.

As much as Amanda was burning to ask the man what he was looking for or why he was here, she knew it wouldn't be wise.

Fox had made his way into her sitting-room now, pausing when he noticed the book she had been reading. He picked that up, too.

"'Die Wende der Welt'," he read aloud. "A true classic," he remarked to Amanda with a grin.

Amanda reciprocated the smile only slightly. "Would you like a drink?" she asked.

"If you would be so kind," Fox said, putting the book down and folding his hands behind his back.

Amanda walked out of the room, letting her pleasant smile fade into an apprehensive frown. She let her thoughts run wild as she prepared tea for the two of them.

Did he know about the banned books? No, no, there was no way he could. He was probably only making rounds in the area. Perhaps something came up. A Jew in the area or something. Yes, that was probably it.

The creaking of the kitchen chair broke her from her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder to find that Fox had made himself at home.

"I've never been one for philosophy, or most fiction," Fox stated. Amanda saw that he no longer had his hat. He probably hung it on a hanger by the door while she was in the kitchen. "But that one truly resonated with me."

"Die Wende der Welt?" Amanda asked, wondering what would happen if she splashed the boiling water into the man's face.

"What else would I be talking about? Yes, it was fascinating to read about life in the Reich before it began to decay." Fox sighed. "To see that neither Hitler or Speer went far enough to preserve Aryan dominance."

"Not like the Reichsführer did."

"Not like the Reichsführer, no."

Silence stretched out for a minute or two while Amanda prepared the tea. Filling up two cups, she placed one in front of Fox, who politely thanked her.

"Have you ever wondered what it is like outside of the Ordensstaat?" Fox asked calmly despite the nearly treasonous question.

Amanda chose her words very carefully. "I don't need to. I already know it's filled with degeneracy."

Fox hummed, taking a sip from his tea. "While that may be true, you don't find yourself the tiniest bit curious?"

Amanda dropped her gaze to her hands, clutching the porcelain cup in a grip. "Never, Kommandant," she said softly.

Fox stared at her, and then a bright smile overtook him. "I had thought not." He lifted the cup to his lips, taking in the last of its contents. He put the empty cup back down and said, "Now, I must ask, where is your husband?"

Amanda tapped her finger on the table. She slowly drank her tea as she thought of an appropriate answer.

"I never married," she said eventually, warily.

"No?" Fox stood up and slid the chair in. "A well-bred girl like yourself?" He gestured to her, "Aryan."

Amanda held herself back from a hot-headed response. Carefully, she responded, "Romance and I don't get along well."

Fox gave her a concerned look that she was positive was fake. "Oh no." He brought a hand to his chin as if he were thinking. "It seems we both have a problem, then. I'm unmarried, too," he pressed a hand to his chest, "the Reichsführer doesn't see it too well for people like us to be unmarried for long."

Amanda was like a deer caught in headlights. Of all the situations she could think of, this had been one of the last. She'd known it could happen, of course, but that didn't mean she ever expected it to actually happen.

"That's very kind of you, Kommandant." It wasn't. "But I have to turn you down. I'm sorry." She wasn't.

Fox's eyes turned cold. "You'll find that objection isn't an option, actually."

Amanda slowly stood up, wringing her hands nervously. "I must insist, Kommandant," she stated, hiding how truly scared she was.

Their eyes locked for a long time.

They watched each other, waiting to see who would make the first move.

The only sound in the room came from the sound of rustling trees outside. It was much too quiet.

At long last, warmth returned to Fox's eyes. "Pardon my rudeness, Fräulein." He checked his watch. "Oh, it looks like I've overstayed my welcome." He looked questioningly at her. "If you'll escort me out?"

No, Amanda wanted to get as far away from the man as possible. She wanted to run away from this situation. But instead of what she really desired, she gave Fox a nod and led him to her front door and opened it for him.

Fox took his hat from the coat rack and Amanda realized she'd been right, he did hang it up. He stepped out of the house, bending to avoid hitting the doorframe, all without looking at her.

Fox sucked in the breath of fresh air. Taking in the smell of nature. It was all very peaceful to him.

The commander put his hat on and faced Amanda one last time. "I appreciate your hospitality."

Amanda again nodded and started closing her door, stopping at once when Fox continued like he'd never stopped.

"So, it will only be fair if I provide some hospitality of my own," Fox's smile disappeared, the cold returning to his eyes. He nodded to one of the soldiers.

The two soldiers that Fox left outside Amanda's door moved as one, grabbing the young woman by her arms, forcefully dragging her outside.

Alarmed, Amanda began to pull back, stopping when a third soldier rammed the butt of his gun into her stomach. She fell to her knees, hugging herself.

In a raspy voice, Amanda stuttered, "Y-you can't d-do this."

"As a matter of fact, you'll find that I can," Fox said in reply. He spun around and went to his vehicle without sparing Amanda a second glance.

The soldiers pulled her up, forcing her along to one of the other cars. "No!" she screamed, but there was nothing to be done.

The journey to Kornwalen was far too quick for Amanda. In just a few hours after her arrival, she was 'registered' and had her blonde locks shaved from her.

She'd only been in Kornwalen for days, but they felt like months. She was so very tired, wishing to sleep for even just a minute.

But she persevered.

When Amanda had first stepped into the large industrial facility, she could hardly believe it. It was massive, extending for, what to her, seemed like miles. Stretching in every direction.

She had to be quick to learn the ropes of the facility, because if you didn't adapt, she found out on her first day, you died.

A man that entered into the facility with Amanda had been working on some machines within the same sector she'd been in.

The person had just finished pulling a lever, wiping sweat from his forehead with his arm, taking a moment to rest.

One of the soldiers noticed, unfortunately, and, without any hesitation, shot the man in the head.

It took all of Amanda's willpower not to scream and continue working.

The man's body was left to rot, a new person taking his place at the machine to continue where he left off.

Amanda's poor arms bled from the constant work. She hadn't slept in days. The most rest they ever received was a five minute break a day, either allowing for them to eat or nap.

Napping was a very bad idea, for if you slept over the slot that was so 'generously' provided to them, you were dragged away.

But everyone knew exactly what happened to them.

Now, Amanda twists the bolts into a broken conveyor belt in hopes to fix it. She tried to not think about the corpse rotting at her side.

She hoped beyond hope that completing the task she'd been given would set her free. Would grant her the rest she so desperately craved.

She was so afraid of dying.

It took every bit of willpower in her to continue the robotic motions of twisting bolt after bolt into place to fix it. Her hunger and thirst begged her for her attention but she ignored it.

Her predecessor, a man she knew was called Oliver, fell asleep at the post she took over. Amanda could only watch in horror as a guard marched over and shot the man in the temple. Then he ordered for her to take his place.

The guard had left ages ago, replaced by another one, patrolling the area with a careful eye.

Amanda twisted the last bolt into place with a joyous elation. The job was done, maybe she'd be rewarded. Maybe she'd get to see her books again. Maybe she'll give romance another shot.

She turned the conveyor belt on, accidentally knocking a wrench she placed on the panel to the floor. The sound of the rattle caught the guards attention and he stormed over, lifting his pistol up.

Amanda froze, subconsciously lifting her arms to defend herself. "No!" she fearfully yelled.

But it was for naught, as the guard fired and Amanda's head snapped back, a mist of red exploding from the back of her head.

She hung for less than a second, and then crumpled to the ground in a heap.

The guard holstered his pistol and resumed his patrol.