Disclaimer: I don't own it, never have I claimed to either.
Author's Note: This is not a pleasant fic. It is a one-shot as of right now. If you want more, let me know and I'll consult my muse. It is from Hermione's point of view, and I go back and forth from first person to narration, but I'm pretty sure that it's obvious which is which. I'm not entirely sure that our dear Hermione and the evil Lucius are in character, but let's hope you all realize that this is at the peak of the war and war does change people. Ok, now before I give away the whole story, one final note; please don't forget to review!
Desperate
"There's been another attack. I'm sorry Miss Granger."
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"Thank you for informing me Professor."
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"Do you think she'll be alright, Albus?"
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"Perhaps detention will encourage you to remember to pay attention in my class!"
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It's over now. I might as well have signed my own death wish. Perhaps I shouldn't have come here; maybe I should have opened up to them. Would they have understood though? Somehow I doubt it. Ironic, really, how this all started with a power-hungry man and yet he seems to be the one I turned to.
I'm not entirely sure how, exactly, I ended up here, but looking back I'm not really surprised it happened. I left for Easter break, claiming that there were things I had to take care of at my parent's estate. I hated lying to them, but my desire to get away from everything and everyone I once knew overrode my guilt.
I had sent a letter ahead to Lucius Malfoy, telling him that I would like to meet him at my parent's home. It only seemed right that it would happen where they fell. He was there when I arrived, sitting in my dad's favorite chair, drinking my dad's wine. I get the feeling that this should have irritated me, but I really thought nothing of it. The conversation that had followed had been the most interesting I've ever had.
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Hermione tossed her bag on the couch and sat down with a heavy sigh. "You're early," she announced, her eyes closed.
"Your letter sounded… desperate."
"If that's how you want to put it." She looked at him heavily. "You know why I wrote?"
"I've entertained many possibilities in my mind, none of which seem realistic enough. Please, do enlighten me."
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I guess you could call it my time of insanity. Where the idea came that I would be better off on the dark side, I don't know. I guess life no longer mattered to me. The day I told Lucius Malfoy that I wanted to join the Death Eaters was be the day I let go of any form of innocence I may have had left.
I don't know how I did it, but I managed to convince him to take me to Voldemort, but I did, and he did. I was most pleased that I had Dumbledore remove any information from my mind that would be detrimental to the Order had Voldemort found them. Of course, Dumbledore didn't realize why I had him do it, but he did it anyway. The week that followed my meeting with Voldemort was harder on me than the week before exams usually is. It's really amazing how little that means to me anymore though. I don't care if I ever get to take my Newts; I just want to get out of here alive.
That week I went through training, training that will be forever a part of my soul. I learned how to properly cast the Unforgivables. I couldn't even explain the feeling that coursed through my body the first time I effectively cast Avada Kedavra if I wanted to. That first time I killed an animal, an innocent animal that had no way of defending itself against me. There really was no turning back then. I became a murderer, and though it didn't then, it pains me to know it now. I wouldn't take the life of a human. There were lines that I wasn't ready to cross, and they knew that. They didn't steal my innocence, I gave it to them.
But all this really doesn't explain how I got here. I had been staying at Malfoy Manor, Narcissa had been killed by Aurors last year and he said the company would be nice. So, foolish as I now admit I was, I went. One night while I was there, he came home from a successful raid. That night I lost the last bit of innocence I had left. That night I slept with Lucius. It disgusts me to think of what I've done now, but it doesn't change the fact that it happened.
Two weeks after my initial talk with Lucius it was time for me to return to school, and I did. I went to Hogwarts and headed straight for Dumbledore's office. I told him that I wouldn't be able to finish the school year there, but that I would return for the NEWT exams. He said he understood my decision and that he would make sure I could do that. I then left and went back to Lucius. In celebration, he took me on my first raid.
I helped bring pain, suffering, and destruction on a Muggle family. A dad, mom, and three kids – two boys and a girl – Lucius raped the mother in front of the father, before killing the man. I killed the woman. I left almost immediately after sending the curse at her. Lucius met me back at Malfoy Manor about an hour later. We argued and that was the first time I began to regret my decision. I took someone's life, how could I just take someone's life like that?
That night he raped me. He told me I wasn't good enough for the Mark and he held me down and raped me. My wand was out of my reach and he was much stronger than I was; I had no defense. When he was finished, he left the room, pocketing my wand as he went. I ran that night, and if you don't know where Malfoy Manor is, I'll tell you. It's literally in the middle of nowhere. The grounds are almost as big as Hogwarts' and as I was running, my legs started hurting. I didn't know if I'd be able to make it far enough away from the Manor to try and find somewhere to hide. I was almost at the boundaries when I head a shouted "Stupefy!" hit me. I fell to the ground in defeat. When I next woke, I found myself where I am now.
I hadn't seen this portion of the Manor, but I know that it is a part of Malfoy Manor. I'm not sure how long I've been in here now, but I feel like it's been days, maybe even weeks. I have had no contact at all. Food appears twice in, what I can assume to be, a day. A while ago I started talking to myself, but when I realized what I was doing, I forced myself to stop. It made me feel as though I'm crazy. So now I've settled with lying down thinking, thinking about anything and everything. From Harry and Ron, my parents, and Hogwarts all the way to becoming a Death Eater and murdering an innocent woman. I think about the night I willingly gave myself to Lucius Malfoy, and I think about that fateful night he raped me. Sometimes the thoughts get to be too much, and that's when I find myself most vulnerable to start talking to myself.
I find myself wondering, more times than not, if the Order is looking for me. Surely they wouldn't know that I joined the Death Eaters. I'm pretty sure that Snape hadn't known. There were few there when I met Voldemort, and fewer still when I received the Mark. So I find myself speculating on whether or not Harry and Ron are concerned about where I am. That night had been about a month after I left Hogwarts and I had received an owl from each of them. I never wrote back, but their letters didn't seem to be too concerned. I wonder if they would ever forgive me, assuming I ever get out of here.
Would the Mark on my left forearm be enough to rip apart any form of friendship we may have had? I doubt they would understand why I joined the Death Eaters. Hell, I don't even understand. I was desperate. It seemed unreal that my parents had been murdered, yet everyone was walking on eggshells around me, as though afraid I would break. I still have no idea what came over me when I wrote that letter to Lucius. Reflecting on it now, I feel like that wasn't even me, I feel as though someone else had taken over my will and done it, then left me to live with the consequences.
Perhaps it is time to let go. I have no hopes of getting out of here. There are no windows, I feel like I haven't seen daylight in so long that it would blind me if I did now. My eyes have grown used to the soft light given off from the torches lining the walls of my dungeon prison.
Hermione scooted to the corner of her cell, resting her head against the cool wall, as she closed her eyes. She felt exhausted. Just as she felt herself drifting into the wonderful world of the unconscious, she felt a stinging pain in her left forearm. Gasping in pain, she grabbed her arm where the Mark had been burned into her skin. Another spurt of pain burst in her arm, spreading throughout her body. She looked down at the horrid mark and saw that it was burning blood red. The throbbing pain eased into a burning sting. Her skin felt so hot and she felt a liquid forming beneath her fingers. Abruptly, she removed her fingers and looked at them, then at the Mark. Both were covered in blood. The blood seemed to be coming from the Mark and as it continued to bleed, her Mark lightened. She watched in fascinated horror as her Mark faded into nothing. Her bloodied arm still stung, but she was freed from the dreadful mark that haunted her thoughts. Perhaps, just perhaps, she may have a chance at true freedom now.
But I've killed someone, I don't deserve freedom. She thought, tears coming to her eyes. She looked back down at the blood-covered skin where the Dark Lord's Mark used to be and a thought struck her. Is it possible that he's dead?! Is it safe to hope? She watched, transfixed, as the blood seeped back into her skin slowly, the pain returning ten-fold. She cried out as she grasped her arm, wishing for the pain to cease. Though it didn't entirely go away, it eventually did ebb into an irritating throb. She chanced a look at her arm and gasped when she saw the Mark burned black as night against her pale skin. She began to worry. What could it mean? Could Voldemort have possibly killed Harry? She shivered at that thought.
Hermione tried to push those thoughts out of her mind as she attempted to sleep. She wouldn't have been able to tell you in she ever did fall asleep, but it felt as though she had just closed her eyes when she opened them abruptly.
Have you ever been in that half-asleep state and you can just sense that someone is watching you? Well, that's what happened to me. I felt like I was finally going to get some rest when I could feel eyes on me. When I opened them, I found Lucius leaning against the wall, staring intently at me. My traitorous eyes looked him over and I found that his hair was a disheveled mess, which is most unlike him, and that there was a bloodied tear in his robes on his right side, going across his ribs. Somehow, by looking him over I suppose, I knew the war was over, though I was still unsure of who had won. My eyes sought his and when they met, I found something there that I had never seen before. I can't seem to find the words to describe it, defeat maybe?
Lucius pushed himself off the wall and walked to where Hermione was still sitting, their eyes never breaking contact. He pulled her up and kissed her softly, almost chastely, then rested his forehead against hers, his eyes shut seemingly in contentment.
"It's over," his voice announced as one of his hands caressed her cheek and the other her waist.
Hermione just stood there, leaning back against the wall. She hadn't kissed him back and when he spoke the words she had been waiting to hear with so much finality, she knew that Harry had pulled through, she knew that Voldemort had finally met his death. Lucius kissed her once more, then pulled her out of her prison. He led her through a few corridors and up a few stairs until she found herself in more familiar parts of Malfoy Manor, Lucius' library to be more precise.
Lucius continued to his desk, while Hermione remained near the door, and pulled something out of one of his drawers. Tossing it to her, he said, "Your wand, my dear, I'm sure you'll be happy to have it back."
Hermione caught her beloved wand, having never been happier in her life to hold it in her hands. She ran her hands over the smooth wood, a content smile on her face. Lucius began moving again.
"Would you like a drink?" He turned and looked at her when she did not answer. She shook her head no and he turned back to make himself one.
Hermione raised her wand slightly, aiming it at Lucius. "Petrificus Totalus." She said softly, though the spell was still very powerful. Lucius' body seemingly froze and he fell backward onto the ground. Hermione walked over and stood before him, looking into the eyes that corrupted her.
"You're right Lucius, it is over." Hermione pointed her wand at his chest. "Avada Kedavra."