A/N: I am a horrible horrible person, I know! I am so sorry! If all of you stop reading my fics because you just hate me that much I just want to apologize again! On a lighter note, I am very very glad I got a few responses for the beta thing but I think it'd be unfair to ask of you so much pertaining to my fics as you can see I don't update regularly. Also, many thanks for the reviews!

I am such a bad person. I am so sorry. I still love you all more than you know! 3

Previously on TTF:

Kate and Hermione always talked on their long afternoon walks and as time passed on, they slowly became friends.

Hermione had much respect for Kate after learning so much about her. Hermione wondered silently how they had endured this hell in silent. She wondered how she would endure this silent hell for any longer. She wondered if she would make out…if she'd ever make it to the outside…

Would Hermione survive this hell-on-earth? Would she be forced to "adapt and overcome?"…

Chapter Four: Ceremonial Eyes

It happened every month. Hermione knew it would happen every single month. She knew the night and the time; she would just have to prepare herself for what was coming. The first time it happened Hermione felt physical and emotional pain that she had never suffered before. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she quickly blinked them away before anyone could see. It was dark in the room so no one could see how bloodshot her chocolate brown eyes were from holding back the tears or the pained expression she kept upon her furrowed brow. After that first night she no longer felt physical pain like the first night but her emotions hurt like someone was tearing violently at her heartstrings.

This would be the sixth night that Hermione would be forced to go through that torture. This would be the night Hermione would learn something…something very important to her future.

They called it a "ceremony". Hermione generally thought of a ceremony to celebrate and she didn't think this was anything at all to celebrate.

To start the whole "thing" off, Hermione would kneel next to the winged armchair where "the wife" would sit, her nose in the air, acting like she was better than Hermione. The Commander would come into this "sitting" room and read from the Bible for almost an hour.

Sometimes, Hermione wanted to laugh to herself about the irony of it all. Was it God's will for her to be held against her will and forced into something so atrocious?

After the reading Mary walked with Hermione to the room of the wife. Fully clothed the wife laid in her bed. Hermione did as she was told, leaving all of her clothing on except her undergarment, she then would lay on the bed, her head resting on the woman's abdomen and she thought that this was quite odd but caught on to the fact that it was supposed to make them "feel as one".

They would wait until the Commander came in. When he finally did arrive the wife took Hermione's hands (another aspect of feeling as one being) and waited for the Commander to "get it over with".

He couldn't see what he was doing. They couldn't see anything. The room was dark, save the sliver of moonlight pouring in through a small opening in the curtains. Hermione felt him and squeezed her eyes shut for a minute. He always had the same look on his face. It wasn't as though he was trying very hard, but he had to put forth some effort, if he wanted it to work.

Hermione waited in silence as she had always done. The wife's rings dug into her fingers and would leave marks. How Hermione wished she could do something about this. Tonight, Hermione remembered making love to her husband. This wasn't the same. This was being fucked. No, this was being fucked up. She hated a man that she had never actually spoken to, or held a conversation with for fucking her up. This faceless powerful demon of a man was what she hated and feared at the same time.

Contrary to the norm the curtains let in a bit of moonlight tonight and as Hermione glanced at the man hovering over her she watched him for a few minutes wondering what was going through his mind.

He was a blond. Hermione saw this hair reflect some light. He was looking away form Hermione when she stared at him. He turned his face toward her slowly. She didn't bother to avert her gaze, she didn't care if he caught her looking at him.

Hermione looked at the defined features of his face and as her eyes looked him over something caught her attention. He looked right at her, staring her square in the eye and as their eyes met in a stare something was drawing Hermione to him and she couldn't look away.

His eyes were this familiar undefined color that she remembered well but couldn't remember who's they were. They looked so familiar and so distant. She pondered this until he broke the stare. The beautiful, cynical, hateful gray-green-blue color of his eyes were embedded in her mind as he nodded that he was done and climbed out of the bed.

The Wife commanded Hermione to stay for ten minutes laying in the bed as the doctors has said it improved the chances of getting pregnant. As the wife ushered Hermione from the room she was lost in her own thoughts.

Who was he? It was completely eerie to Hermione how well she knew him. It was like a feeling of loathing and hate she got from staring at him that phased her the most. Hermione walked to her room slowly. Her steps were light in the hallway. The ballet-like flats that she wore were quiet across the carpeted hall and walked alone to her room.

After reaching her room at a slow pace Hermione went into her room and removed her handmaiden robe and pulled on a nightgown as she heard a knock at the door.

Hermione opened the door a little bit and she saw the commander's assistant. His name was Ian and he looked as thought he was about twenty years old. Hermione let him in and he stood with a half-smile on his face.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Miss, the Commander assumed you'd not be asleep yet. He said he'd like to see you tomorrow after your resting hour, in his office."

Hermione perked an eyebrow at him and questioned "Why?" as though he should know. He shrugged his shoulders, loosing his normal professionalism and said, "I don't know, Miss"

Hermione nodded and watched him nod her a 'goodbye' and leave. She shut the door quietly behind him and walked over to her window seat. She wasn't exactly "tired". Hermione sat down, drew her knees to her chest and locked her arms around her shins, resting her chin on her knees. Looking out the open curtains Hermione stared out at the dark village where all the sleeping shopkeepers and peasants lived simply. She sat up lat into the night thinking about the Commander. It scared her to death seeing something that familiar when she was so far away from anything she knew even a shred about.

Who? Who could this mystery man of such power be?

Reviews:

Randomreaderreadingthisstory: I checked "A Handmaid's Tale" by Ms. Atwood and I did spell Gilead correctly. I know it may be differnt in another book but I double checked.
HPgirl7 and illyria-light: I know I know, I'm working on it. I just write in this black notebook that I carry around with me and whatever comes out comes out.
As for the rest of you: I really haven't got a personal comment except to say:

THANK YOU a million times over for reading and reviewing.

boome