Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I swear. But, apparently the plot's mine, heh.
Chapter 2: A Familiar Emptiness
Hermione picked up the letter from her father that had been sent days earlier. She still had replied back, because for once, she was at a loss for words.
Christian Granger was never a patient man. He had been obviously been very upset to read her last reply. Outraged, really.
Look, you stupid bitch!
The Lord has given you the best offer we could have, and I will NOT tell him you declined, like the foolish child you are. You know what happens when I'm upset…
You WILL marry the Lord before something happens in this war. You WILL become a Death Eater. I will not hear of any other outrageous ideas!
Listen, Hermione! You are a Granger. This means you area very powerful pureblood. With power, comes responsibility, you foolish girl. It is upon you to uphold the family business, like I. Not to mention, what this would do for my position in the Inner Circle.
Hermione, the war will be here sooner than you think! Our Lord is already planning, and has formed many alliances to rival that of your idiot muggle-loving Headmaster!
Your Father.
Her hands quivered, holding the letter tightly.
Why did she have to be born into this? She didn't want to become some idiot slave for Voldemort! What a pitiful excuse for a Lord!
She hissed in frustration. It would be a little easier if she were a boy, so she could fight her father more easily.
Chewing on a Chocolate Frog her mother sent, Hermione read the letter once more.
'You know what happens when I'm upset.'
Yes, Hermione knew all to well. She shook her head ruefully.
Despite Melissa Granger's protests, her father beat her when she did wrong. When she didn't get a high mark. When she let that mudblood beat her in grades.
No, not beat her. That word was far too easy-going. He magically cursed her with an Unforgivable, and any other dark spells they had yet to learn during their progressing education.
Hermione lifted up the sleeve on her right arm, revealing a fairly new bruise, since her school had only just started. There were still a few stray cuts from his sword.
She remembered how Draco had accused her of being a Death Eater, and a spoiled brat. Well, if he knew what her life was really like, he would soon change his tune, wouldn't he?
Hermione turned her head, feeling a familiar emptiness. It was the feeling she got when she wanted to cry. But, being raised by her father, he had made it impossible for her to cry.
She hated him with a passion. For taking away her childish innocence, and for keeping her from her own mother.
Biting her lower lip forcefully, she knew what would happen. In the end, Christian always won. Like it or not, Hermione would become a Death Eater, and Voldemort's wife.
Some poor girl off somewhere else, would become his mistress.
She picked up her last sugar quill (her father destroyed the rest, calling it rubbish), and wrote her defeated response.
Father,
I understand. Tell Voldemort I will be there during our Winter Leave, since our work should have died down by then. I suppose mother can delight herself in planning the wedding that will undoubtedly occur whilst I'm there, to ensure I don't back out.
Hope you're happy,
Your Daughter.
Hermione didn't even bother signing her name, because she was so upset at her damned father.
Besides, the stupid cod didn't ever sign his name.
She shivered at the thought of being the future Lady Voldemort.
Her ice-cold fingers clenched tightly, as she trudged begrudgingly up the stairs to the Owlery.
~*~
"Dumbledore, there has to be something we can do! Even if Hermione is quite the little brat in class, she is still one of our most prized! We can't lose her to the dark side," Minerva protested.
"I'm afraid…we can't do anything to stop this. We already have our hands tied with this war, and Christian is never one to let up on his demands," Dumbledore replied, sadly.
"Surely, there must be something!" Severus exclaimed.
Stroking his long, white beard, the Headmaster began slowly, "We could always have her as a spy."
"B-But, that won't help her escape from marrying that bastard! In fact, if she were discovered, it would be twice as bad for her life!" Professor Snape cried, looking at the figure in Dumbledore's Pensieve.
"That's true, Severus, but nonetheless. I don't think there is much we could do but try to keep her here. Even that would be futile."
"Surely, there must be something," Professor McGonagall asked, adjusting her glasses. "Albus, I've never seen you give up so easily!"
"I'm sorry, Minerva. But as of right now, there isn't a damned thing I can think of."
Both the professors before him were taken aback at his curse. The normally light-hearted Headmaster was losing his cool, because of the Dark War.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. Please, take a Bertie Bott's Jellybean?" Albus Dumbledore smiled faintly.
Minerva McGonagall shook her head gently. "You know I won't touch those things."
Albus chuckled, and turned to Snape, holding the box.
"No thank you," the professor frowned, wrinkling his hooked nose.
"Really, Severus. You shouldn't frown…it isn't becoming," Albus teased.
His face grew somber, almost immediately when he looked in the pensieve, and saw Hermione slouched against a deserted wall, looking like she wanted to die.
"Albus, I'm worried for her well-being," Minerva chimed, observing the young fifth-year.
"So am I! Honestly, she's my best student. Dumbledore, you know she's going to be the Head Girl. We have to find some way to save her from all of this," Snape added, waving his arms around frantically.
"Professors! My dear professors, I understand your concern, but for now there isn't anything…" Albus trailed off, a faint smile crossing his face.
"Albus, this isn't funny in the least!" Severus snapped, scowling in the typical Slytherin way.
"No, no, it isn't…But I think…yes, it would do quite nicely…" Dumbledore murmured, stroking his beard again.
"Albus, did you think of something?" Minerva asked curiously.
"Yes, I think I may have…Minerva, cover for my absence, I expect I shall be gone for a few days," the Headmaster replied, standing.
She nodded, glancing hopefully at Severus. "That's fine, Albus. However long it takes."
Dumbledore crossed over to his phoenix, saying softly, "Fakes, you watch over any of the children. Be sure to pay careful attention to Hermione, Draco, Ron, and Harry."
The phoenix squawked, flapping its wings gently in agreement.
"Excellent, it's settled then," Albus exclaimed loud enough for the two professors to hear.
Snape looked curiously at the Headmaster, but said nothing.
"Well, I'll be seeing you soon then," Dumbledore said cheerily. With a small pop! he left the room.
"I wonder where he went," Severus muttered, placing his cloak on again.
"Well, we'll be finding out soon enough, I suppose. But now, it's time for breakfast, and I'll be needing to explain this to the students," Minerva replied briskly, slipping on her emerald robes.
Stiffly, she walked to the exit, and left Severus alone in Dumbledore's office, thinking.
Finally, he left too.
~*~
Draco reached over the table, grabbing some food onto his plate, and glanced up at the Slytherin table, out of habit.
He was a little startled to see that Hermione was not there.
Ginny Weasley poked him, blushing furiously.
"Yeah?" he asked, stuffing some toast into his mouth.
"Well…Neville just asked me out. What should I do?" she whispered desperately.
"Say yes," Draco replied nonchalantly, peering at the ceiling for signs of the owls.
She nodded, and turned back to Neville Longbottom, nodding her head quickly, grinning.
Seconds later, an enormous flock of owls flew through the windows, circling around the large tables searching for their owners.
He saw the eagle owl that belonged to Hermione, and he glanced around worriedly for signs of her. Her owl was beginning to slightly freak out that she wasn't around.
Without warning, the large doors burst open, and Hermione walked through, her head down. Her curls were bouncing up and down as she rushed to her seat, grasping the letter her owl was flapping around with.
She pat its head, and it flew off without so much as a soft hoot.
Draco jerked his gaze away from her, and turned it back to the diminishing owls.
Today was his birthday, and he was expecting an owl from his muggle parents. They promised to give it a try.
He spotted the brown owl he gave them, so they could owl him. "Oy, Jack!" he yelled, waving his arms.
The owl looked dazed, then flew towards him.
It dropped an enormous package, and two cards.
Draco grabbed the cards, and ripped them open. One was from his mother and father. The other was from his best friend, Robert.
Robert's was, of course, humorous, and caused Draco to laugh.
Eagerly, he grasped the package, and decided he'd wait to open it when the rest of his friends gave him their gifts.
"Happy birthday, you stupid git!" Harry exclaimed, whacking his back.
"'Appy buffday!" Ron chimed, food flying out of his mouth.
Draco put up his hands as shields, chuckling. "You stupid git, get that food out of your mouth!"
Ron stuck out his tongue. "See if you get anything from me, then!"
"Alright, alright," Draco laughed in defeat.
Out of the corner of his eye, he snuck a glance at the famed Slytherin Queen, and was quite disturbed at her forlorn look.
~*~
Hermione sighed quietly, placing her head in a hand.
"You gonna eat that?" Goyle—or Crabbe, she wasn't entirely sure—asked.
She shook her head, and turned away. "I'm not hungry. Eat it all," she muttered.
Goyle's—she was sure now—face lit up. "Thanks!"
Hermione glanced over at the Gryffindor table, and saw Draco laughing with his two loser friends.
Wasn't it just yesterday, when she was so eager to start that plan? Now, she could hardly care less. Not with the thought of having to marry Voldemort and join his league of cowards mere months away.
Professor McGonagall stood up, shushing the students. "I'm sure most of you are wondering where our Headmaster is."
The Hall was filled with hushed whispers, and Hermione suddenly realized the absence of the jovial professor.
"Dumbledore is off on business, and isn't expected back for a few days. Until then, the Quidditch match for this weekend has been cancelled, in light of the upcoming war."
Students groaned, and yelled angrily.
Stiffly, she continued harshly, "We don't want to continue these activities until our headmaster is back. So until then, are matches are being postponed. I'm sorry."
Professor McGonagall sat back down, glaring at a few kids.
Hermione heaved a sigh again, relieved about the decision. She wasn't sure she could handle playing in a match.
Looking absently across the hall, she scanned over a few familiar faces.
So much was happening. It was all so fast. Hermione was just a young girl, and yet there she was…facing marriage, and joining a side that was bound to lose.
She secretly wished it would just be over and done with. Hell, Harry Potter was so great at playing hero…couldn't he do it again now?
With nothing to do, she grabbed her letter, and strode off to the library for privacy. Luckily, Potions (her favorite) was the class of the day.
Finally plopping down on a black leather sofa in the back of the library, she opened the letter.
Hermione?
What in the hell happened, you stupid bitch? I sent you a letter a week ago! Where is your response, dammit?!
Lord Voldemort is growing restless, and very impatient. This is never good, Hermione. Especially with me being a part of his most trusted Inner Circle…the circle you will soon be a part of.
Need I remind you that under normal circumstances, our Lord wouldn't DREAM of letting a woman in. Be grateful the Dark Lord is understanding, and marry him.
The consequences to pay if you don't marry him and become one of us will be deathly, my dear daughter.
Father.
Hermione growled, fighting back a shriek. Why was he degrading her like this?
Re-reading the last line, her heart pounded with fear. She knew Christian was not bluffing when he wrote that the 'consequences would be deathly'.
She sniffed, crumpling the letter in her palm. She replied to the last one. There was no need to answer this one.
Hermione jumped up, and looked for a trashcan. Finding one, she tossed the parchment into it, and stalked off.
As if she didn't have enough to worry about in school, her father had to pile on all the 'dark side' bullshit on her.
She chewed on her lip, her cheeks burning with anger.
Hermione brushed past a familiar body, but didn't bother stopping to take out her anger on them.
~*~
Draco walked curiously over to the trashcan Hermione had dumped her letter in.
He knew it was wrong, attempting to read her mail.
But it couldn't be helped, as he dug out the letter, and smoothed it out over a table.
Hermione?
What in the hell happened, you stupid bitch? I sent you a letter a week ago! Where is your response, dammit?!
Lord Voldemort is growing restless, and very impatient. This is never good, Hermione. Especially with me being a part of his most trusted Inner Circle…the circle you will soon be a part of.
Need I remind you that under normal circumstances, our Lord wouldn't DREAM of letting a woman in. Be grateful the Dark Lord is understanding, and marry him.
The consequences to pay if you don't marry him and become one of us will be deathly, my dear daughter.
Father.
Draco flinched. Who knew that her father was so evil? Well, to his own daughter, anyway.
He inhaled sharply; tossing the letter down like it was a disease.
Draco felt the overwhelming need to help Hermione. Even if she were a complete Ice Queen, it was the least he could do. If she couldn't even turn to her own father…
He shuddered, at the cold tone of the letter.
From the sound of it, Hermione had refused once before.
He looked up, and found Harry and Ron approaching. Stuffing the letter into his bag, he greeted his two friends warmly.
"Ugh, what's eating that stupid Slytherin bitch?" Ron spat, his face flaming red.
Draco winced again, and then remembered how much they hated her. He was being a stupid git to think he wanted to help her.
She probably wanted to marry that disgusting excuse of a 'Dark Lord'!
"You mean other than usual?" Draco asked, grinning.
"Exactly. That's what I was trying to say!" Harry exclaimed, leaning against the table. "Well, I suppose we should go now. Time for potions," he added, his face contorting with disdain.
Draco rolled his eyes, sighing loudly. "Stupid git…I hate Snape!"
~*~
Professor Snape glanced around the room. He cast worried glances to his star pupil, who seemed three times as upset as she was this morning.
Loudly, the Troublesome Three burst into the room, chatting merrily.
He groaned in disgust, and fought the urge to pair Draco with Hermione, just to irritate the bloody git.
No, Hermione needed better treatment now. She was so fragile, in this state…
"Class," he began, clapping his hands. "Today, we will be brewing truth serum.
The Gryffindors groaned, knowing that he would be pairing them with Slytherins.
"The pairings will be as follow," he continued, ignoring their complaints.
Professor Snape decided it would be best to pair Hermione with someone nicer, so he decided to use the infamous Harry Potter.
****
Bum, bum, bum! Next chappie: The truth serum, for sure! Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers, I love you! Really. This next chapter won't come out as quick, because I already had this one typed…and the rest isn't. So, expect it Wednesday-ish. Luckily for you, I have two half-days in a row.
As in, writing time!!! I'm excited, I dunno, it's possible I'm just a big freak/nerd. Wouldn't be the first time I heard it, lol. (My friends are just so nice, you know…)
P.S.—I hope you guys like the three teachers bit, because I love to use them for foreshadowing. If you can call it that.