8. From within.

It was months later. Outside, it was early summer. Not that Hermione ever went outside. They weren't allowed to leave the manor and a stroll on the grounds was hardly appealing, what with the Dementors and all. But the sun coming in through their living room window reminded her of how unexpectedly fast the time had gone by.

They heard little from the outside world. The Death Eaters went on raids, often returning with one or more captives, to disappear into the dungeons or the large ballroom downstairs. Hermione didn't know the details of what went on there, and she didn't want to know. No one ever came out, they had been an exception. She knew Macnair, Marcus Flint, the Crabbes and the Goyles were the worst when it came to these revels, and she took care to avoid them. Not that they visited the potions lab or in the library often, which were the only places she frequented.

A few of the most notable events did come to their attention. Voldemort led a surprise attack on a meeting of Aurors, killing twenty-three and only losing two of the Death Eaters. And in January, the Dark Lord attacked Hogsmeade, this time while there were no students in town. Striking in the middle of the night, almost three dozen people had been killed, and more than three quarters of the village had been burned to the ground. Voldemort had lost no one in that attack. If there were any victories for the other side, they didn't hear of them.

She was always busy. Most of the time, she assisted Severus with his work on the Philosopher's Stone, and in the evenings she studied. Soon after she had started to help him, Severus had suggested he would continue to teach her and let her do an official apprenticeship under him. Apart from learning more than just those things that happened to come up during their research, she would be able to earn her title as Potions Mistress, which would be invaluable if the war would ever be over. Regardless of which side would win. She applied herself to her studies as hard as ever, and with few distractions, she was making quick progress.

At the time, she had been quite surprised that Voldemort hadn't objected, neither to her assisting Severus, nor to her studies. Severus had explained his work would not suffer, and hers would only improve –Potions was a science in which an understanding of the whole was often as important as an understanding of the specific potion one was working on- and the Dark Lord had agreed immediately.

That had baffled her at the time. Now, she knew Voldemort knew a lot about Potions and Alchemy, not near as much as Severus, but certainly more than any other among the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord would come once or twice a week, watching them with his red, glowing eyes. At first it made her terribly nervous, but now she was used to it. Not that she would ever forget who he was, or forget to respect him, but his presence didn't make her shake as badly anymore. Of course, he came to check up on them, to see if Severus was working seriously on the Stone, but he also showed patience and a great deal of respect for Severus' abilities.

Once, just before Christmas, Voldemort had even told Goyle Sr off. The man, who was about as thick as his son, had come into the room with a message for the Dark Lord.

"Still no results, eh? Figures," Goyle had sneered when he found the Dark Lord in the lab.

Voldemort had given him a withering look and replied, "If it were that easy, I wouldn't have had to go through all that trouble to get Severus. And people who can't brew a Swelling Solution should not comment on the subject at all."

Goyle had flinched, nervously wringing his hands, almost as Pettigrew often did. "Of course, my Lord, I'm sorry my Lord."

Severus had smirked and even she had found it amusing to see one of the Death Eaters put in his place, although she hadn't dared to show it.

Not all, but at least some of the Death Eaters slowly started to treat them with civility. First only towards Severus, but more and more toward her as well. Surprisingly enough, the Malfoys were among the more courteous ones. Where Draco and his father used to sneer every time they saw either her or Severus, Malfoy Sr. had even greeted her the last few times he had seen her. Hermione would always hate the Malfoys for what they had done, but she was also relieved. While Pettigrew, Crabbe, Goyle and of course Macnair were still as disdainful as ever, she felt the Malfoys were far more dangerous in the end.

Of course, regardless of all of these happenings, they still didn't have their wands. The Dark Lord didn't really trust them, perhaps he never would. But it was better than it had been.

And now she was coming back from the library, carrying several obscure Muggle religious texts, hoping they held something of value, when she met Voldemort in the upstairs hall.

She respectfully inclined her head and intended to move on quickly, but he stopped her.

"Miss Granger."

"Lord."

"Working hard," the Dark Lord stated, indicating the books she carried.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Lord."

"Good." His red eyes pierced hers, and she felt a little chilly even though she should be used to him now. Then he reached out and rested a pale, long-fingered hand on her arm. "It has come to my attention you are the only one here who hasn't been Marked."

Hermione started. "But, but I'm a Mudblood," she said. "My Lord."

Voldemort smiled at her distress. "And?"

Her eyes opened wide in confusion. "Well, I thought, I thought I could be here only because of Severus. I have never heard of any Muggle-born taking the Mark."

"None have," Voldemort replied. "But I've seen what you can do, and I don't care who you were born to. Think about it." He let go of her arm and swept down the hall.

"Yes, Lord," she promised as he walked off, then quickly continued on her way.

As soon as she entered the potions lab, she put the books down and told Severus what had just happened. He didn't seem as surprised as she was.

"The Dark Lord has never been as anti-Muggle as most people think."

"Then what about all the raids, all the Muggles and Muggle-borns he lets Macnair and Crabbe and Goyle bring in for their pleasure," Hermione argued.

"He uses them, yes. He doesn't particularly care about them, and he uses them, killing them or allowing others to kill them when it suits him. But he is a half-blood himself, and apart from his Muggle father, he hates them mostly because it is convenient to do so. It gave him the support of a number of old, strong, pure-blood families, and even now it is important in keeping some of his followers under control."

"Like Macnair." Hermione said.

Severus nodded. "Yes. You must have noticed few of his followers actually have any real power. Malfoy, of course, the Lestranges in London, Winters in the Ministry, but that's it. The others may be free to move around but they have little more actual power than we do. He lets them have their way with the Muggles they capture, it gives them a sense of power, and it keeps them happy, but that's all."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I'm still a little surprised he would want to give you the Mark. If word got out a Muggle-born witch took the Mark, more Muggle-borns will come to him. His power is great enough I think a number of them would risk it, if they knew they had a chance to be accepted," Severus said. "Of course, the Muggle-borns wouldn't like the revels Macnair and friends are so fond of, and without their rewards, they won't be happy for long. Perhaps the Dark Lord doesn't consider Macnair, Goyle and the lot to be a great loss, with more –and more competent- wizards joining up."

Hermione frowned in thought. So she could set something in motion that might, in a small way, lessen the cruelties the Muggles were subjected to. Or her decision could lead to a lot of trouble, if Macnair and friends were to act up.

"What do you think?" she asked finally.

"I think you should take it," Severus replied. "It is risky, yes. But it looks like the Dark Lord will win in the end, and as such, it may help a lot of Muggle-borns and half-bloods."

Hermione nodded. "I will inform him."

The next day, she requested to see the Dark Lord. Soon after, Pettigrew told her to come to Voldemort's work room, the same room where she had been brought in both times he captured her. She knocked and the door opened immediately. Entering, she knelt in front of Voldemort.

"Miss Granger, have you thought about what I told you?"

"I have, my Lord. I will take the Mark," she replied.

"Good. I had hoped you would. Give me your arm."

She held out her left arm, and for the second time in two days, Voldemort touched her with his long, thin fingers.

The Dark Lord pushed her sleeve up, then took out his wand. He rested the tip lightly on her skin.

"Morsmordre Tergus."

The brand blazed into her skin, and Hermione bit her lip so hard she could taste blood, and tears shot in her eyes, but she did not cry out. After a few moments, the searing pain faded and settled into a heavy throb. She blinked quickly to rid herself of the liquid in her eyes.

The Dark Lord smiled, satisfied. "Welcome to the fold, Miss Granger."

She inclined her head respectfully. "Thank you, Lord."

She returned to their quarters as he dismissed her, looking perfectly calm as she walked down the halls. But once inside, she shivered over her entire body. She was immensely relieved to find Severus had been waiting for her. She fell into his arms and, here in the privacy of their quarters, allowed herself to cry.

There would be no going back, she could only hope she had done the right thing.

It wasn't long before the first Muggle-born came to Voldemort. Only about a week after she had taken the Mark, Kathleen Morgan, a just-graduated Hufflepuff, was brought to the manor by Laticia Shiring, a Slytherin who had been in the same year. Three days later, her friend Sheila Donner, a Ravenclaw, followed. Then, an older wizard, Jorgen Howard, approached the Dark Lord. Hermione knew there would be more. The first two had been students straight out of school, impressionable and afraid. Howard was eighty-six, worked for the Ministry of Magic, and had been a Gryffindor.

They would go downstairs for some of their meals, now. She watched the Death Eaters nervously, trying to determine their reactions. The other Death Eaters, now, although she still couldn't really think of herself as one of them, nor was she allowed any more freedom than before.

Malfoy was the greatest surprise. Hermione knew how he and Draco had looked down on her and any other Muggle-born witches during school, and she had expected an unpleasant response, even though he had been reasonably civil. Instead, he seemed pleased she had acceded to the Dark Lord by taking the Mark. Clearly, Malfoy's loyalty to Voldemort was greater than his prejudice.

The other Death Eaters were almost as uneasy around her as she was around them, unhappy with her and the new recruits, yet afraid to show it. Hermione couldn't help but smile when she noticed they avoided her, now. Of course, Mark or no Mark, she wouldn't yet dare protest against anything they would do, to her or any of the others. Her status hadn't changed that much.