Life Can't Get Any Worse

"Well, well, mudblood. We meet again."

Hermione sighed. She was one of the only one's left in the Great Hall for supper. Everyone must have left. She slightly remembered Ron and Hannah telling her that they would be in the Common Room, but their voices had seemed so far away.

"What, Blaise?" Hermione asked, suddenly anxious to get as far away from him as possible. She thought that she had gotten lucky, since it was already mid-January and Blaise had still not approached her. Apparently she had jinxed herself.

"Nothing." Blaise smirked. "I was just wondering if the rumors were true. Did our dear Draco actually kill some stupid wizard?"

"Fuck you." Hermione shot back, defensively. "Will was not stupid."

"So it is true." Blaise grinned. "I guess Draco does still have a bit of Malfoy in him. And we'd all thought that you had sucked it all out of him."

"Our relationship had nothing to do with you!" Hermione exclaimed. "And yet, you still butted in! Will's death is your fault, not Draco's! If you know what's good for you, you'll go and tell the Ministry that it is completely your fault and they should give up the search for Draco! Or you know what, better yet, just go and kill yourself. Either one is fine with me. Just do something."

"Or else?" Blaise replied, threateningly.

"Or else I'll kill you myself." Hermione whispered. "Don't fuck with me, Blaise, or it will be the last thing you do. I guarantee it."

And with that, Hermione picked herself up from the Gryffindor table and left the Great Hall, leaving a stunned Blaise behind with it.

……………………………

"This is such crap." Ron whispered to Hannah a month later as he flipped through a stack of parchment that Hermione had made suggestions on for S.P.E.W. "Give them wages? Give them holidays? Allow them executive positions? Allow them to work in the Ministry of Magic? She's gone nuts!"

Hannah shushed Ron angrily, not wanting him to upset Hermione. Ron sighed and continued to sort through the suggestions, unbelievably awed at the foolhardiness of each one.

Hermione, on the other hand, was tapping her pencil impatiently against her oak desk, obviously thinking hard about something to do with S.P.E.W.

"What is it, Hermione?" Hannah asked, glancing at the pieces of parchment that lay sprawled over the desk that Hermione's sat at.

"Finance!" Hermione cried, frustrated. "How are we supposed to finance this? Believe it or not, I'm not the richest person in the world."

"Hear, hear!" Ron agreed, stretching his arms and leaning back in his chair, prepared to take a long, relaxing break.

"I'm sure we can think of something." Hannah said, uselessly.

"We can't." Hermione replied. "There's nothing. Gringotts usually refuses loans to witches and wizards under the age of twenty unless it is for a good cause like Belle Strait or something. And I'm willing to bet all of my galleons that those goblins would not consider House-Elf organizations as a good cause."

"I'd put some galleons on that." Ron said.

Hannah glared at him. "What about Harry-"

"No." Hermione interrupted, firmly. "I refuse to go to Harry with this. I don't want his money, nor will I accept it under any condition. Besides, the way we've treated him and vice-versa, I'd doubt that he would support us anyway."

Ron wore an expression that clearly said duh! Hannah jammed her elbow into his arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Ron whined, rubbing his soon-to-be bruised arm.

"For being so negative!" Hannah exclaimed. She turned to Hermione. "Okay, so Harry and Gringotts are out of the question." She sighed. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'm sure we'll think of something."

"No one wants to finance something that will help poor house-elves causes. But this is exactly what we're fighting for. I'm not worried. This will work eventually, I'm sure of it." Hermione said, determinedly.

"I'm sure it will." Ron replied with not as much enthusiasm as Hermione would have liked. "Can we go down to breakfast now? I'm starving."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "What a surprise."

Hermione giggled. "Let me just put all of this in our dormitory." She gathered all of the parchment sprawled on the desk, as well as on the floor, and dashed out of the library, heading for the Head Boy and Girl dormitory.

Dumbledore had offered Hermione's position as Head Girl back to her towards the end of January, but Hermione had declined. She did not want such a large responsibility anymore. Screw Head Girl. She didn't need it. But what she did need was a place to stay, other than the Gryffindor Common Room. So, Ron and Hannah generously offered her Hannah's Head Girl bedroom. Hannah had been sleeping in Ron's bedroom. Hermione was not sure if they were having sex or not, but it was still kind that Hannah would offer her bedroom.

Hermione stated the password to the mermaids and quickly crawled through the portrait hole, emerging into the Common Room. She tore through the Common Room and raced to her bedroom, dropping off the load of parchment on her night side table. Just as she turned to leave, a sudden impulse caused Hermione to stop and twirl the ring that Draco had given her around her finger. Instead of leaving, she sat down on her four-poster bed and gazed up at the calendar pinned to the wall above it. Each day was crossed off with a permanent red marker. Hermione picked up the marker that sat on her night side table and crossed off another day. Sighing, she pulled the calendar down and began flipping through the months. It had been almost two months since Christmas. Since Hermione had last spoken with Draco.

Staring at the calendar, Hermione tried desperately not to cry. It was February 14. Valentine's Day. Ron had gotten her a box of chocolate and Hannah had gotten her a tiny, plush teddy bear. But Hermione did not want these things. It was Valentine's Day. The most romantic day of the year. She wanted to be spending every moment of it with Draco, not with her two best friends who most likely wanted to spend it together, romantically. More than ever, Hermione felt like a third wheel. She missed Draco. Just to hear from him would be incredible…

Sighing once more, Hermione pinned the calendar back up against the wall and slowly headed down to the Great Hall, dreading the breakfast that she would have to eat with Ron and Hannah.

"Took you long enough." Ron teased, stuffing a muffin coated in pink icing into his large, open mouth. "We'd thought you'd gotten lost or something."

Hannah giggled, leaning over and pecking Ron on his stuffed cheek. She seemed to be in a much better mood now, as opposed to earlier that morning when she seemed to be huffy with Ron for just about everything. Hermione smiled despite herself, happy to see that at least one couple was able to celebrate the romantic holiday together.

"Mail!" Hannah cried, gazing up and watching the swarm of owls swoop into the Great Hall and deliver their packages to the various recipients. To Hermione's surprise, three deliveries arrived for her. One was the Daily Prophet. Another was quite obviously from Ron's mother, with heart-shaped cookies enveloped in a beautiful pink gift-wrap. Grinning, Hermione looked over at Ron, who was blushing sheepishly, and then at Harry, who sat a little ways away down the Gryffindor table, also opening a package from Mrs Weasley. She felt a small surge of sympathy for him; at least he received something from Mrs Weasley. That made Hermione feel a little bit better about completely deserting Harry, although there was still a small bit of guilt in the pit of her stomach.

Trying to shake the guilt off, Hermione looked down at the remaining package in front of her. It was a small box, with a slip of parchment attached to it. Wondering who it could be from, Hermione eagerly tore the box open. Inside was a slim, golden chain, with a small heart pendant bordered with shimmering diamonds hanging from it. Odd, Hermione thought. It looks just like my ring. A sudden excitement overcame Hermione. It was from Draco! She quickly opened the attached parchment and began to read it:

Hermione,

Happy Valentine's Day. I just thought you should know that the day I went to see you at your hotel suite, I was planning on giving you this ring/necklace set. They belonged to my great-grandmother. They are very precious Malfoy heirlooms, and I wanted you to have them. I can't tell you where I am, but I can tell you that I'm fine and I'm thinking about you every damn day. This is killing me. I HATE IT. I want to turn myself in, just so I can maybe see you before being tossed into Azkaban. But I can't. I've got to keep going. I've gotten this far, haven't I? Just remember, I miss you and I never stop thinking about you. Keep on living. I love you.

Draco

Hermione's bottom lip began to quiver. Why would he send this to her? Just to remind her about how much she missed him? As if she needed reminding. But still, it was incredibly wonderful to hear from him. To know that he was alright. Hermione fastened the necklace around her neck, secretly telling herself that she would never take it off. Luckily, Hannah and Ron were too involved with themselves to question the package or the necklace that Hermione had received. Opening the Daily Prophet, Hermione propped it up against her goblet of orange juice, hiding her face from everybody so that they would not see the tears flowing down it. She was not intending to read it, but a certain article caught her eye. She gasped.

MALFOY CAUGHT AND SENT TO AZKABAN

Draco Malfoy, recent murderer of William Tompkins, was found and arrested last night in a small town north of London. Malfoy was spotted by a muggle, who immediately reported this convict, and the Ministry of Magic were able to track him straight away. Draco Malfoy, son of deceased Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, fled from the Ministry only months before on Christmas Day. He fled because he had taken away the life of young wizard William Tompkins, by use of the Unforgivable Curse, Avada Kadavra. "We should have been expecting something like this." Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge said last night after delivering Malfoy personally to Azkaban. "Lucius Malfoy was a bad egg. Of course his son would be too. I'm just happy that he is safely under the watch of the Dementor's now. There is no more need to fear." Draco Malfoy will be serving a life-sentence in Azkaban, which is exactly where he belongs.

Hermione read and reread the article, refusing to believe it. Draco couldn't have been caught! He was Draco Malfoy! And he would have only written that letter to her days before. How could he be fine one day, and then caught the next? And why was he near London? He had been gone for almost two months. Surely he would have been far from London. And now he was in Azkaban. At that very moment, Draco Malfoy was sitting in a cold, stone Azkaban cell, freezing his ass off and being guarded by the horrifying, gruesome Dementor's. Why was this happening?

…………………………………….

The Night Before

The sound of rain plummeting into the ocean and waves crashing against enormous rocks banged against his eardrums, but the sound did not bother him at the moment. All he wanted to do was to focus his eyes. His vision was hazy and unclear, making it very frustrating. Slowly, his eyes came back into focus. He suddenly realized that he had been put into the full-body bind and been knocked unconscious. Awaking in a boat in the middle of the ocean with rain pounding against your face was definitely not the best way to wake. He wanted to shield his face against the buckets of rain, but his arms would not move. This was most definitely not the kind of position that Draco Malfoy should ever be in. But he was. So, for what felt like forever, he took to looking up into the dark, starry sky, watching the individual drops of rain attack him as a union. Suddenly, the boat stopped rowing. They must have hit shore. For the first time in what felt like hours, Draco could see something other than the vast, open sky. A tall building loomed over him, looking frightening and haunted. Draco had seen that building in pictures. That same dark, ominous structure. Azkaban.

"Get him out!" A distant voice hollered over the deafening rain.

Suddenly, a set of strong, muscular arms hauled Draco up and out of the boat. A sudden flash of lightening illuminated the otherwise silhouetted face of Draco's retriever. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Draco remembered Hermione telling him about this man; they had been on friendly terms with each other. Hermione. The name sent a brick plummeting in Draco's stomach. He had sent her a letter by owl only a couple of days before, when everything had been alright. And then what happened? He had been on his way to see her. How could he abandon her on Valentine's Day? He just had to see her. But then a beam of red light flashed in Draco's eyes and he fell unconscious, only to awake freezing cold in a wooden boat, being carried off to Azkaban where he would spent the rest of his life.

A spell had been cast on Draco to undo the body-bind charm. Kingsley Shacklebolt shoved Draco forward. Run, Draco told himself. Just run. But to where? Draco felt weak enough as it was. And slowly looking around, he could see that there was nowhere to run to. It was just this tiny island with a towering, daunting building propped right in the center.

"Hello, Mr Malfoy." A voice greeted menacingly.

Draco looked up and into the eyes of Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic. "Hello, Minister." Draco smirked, adding a sarcastic stress on 'minister'.

Fudge glared disapprovingly at Draco, but continued. "Do you know where you are?"

Draco nodded. "Of course."

"Well, this is where you will be the rest of your life. You will have no trial. You have used an Unforgivable Curse on a fellow wizard, and for that you have a life-sentence in Azkaban. Do you understand?" Fudge demanded.

"Bite me." Draco replied bitterly, spitting directly into Fudge's face.

"You arrogant, disrespectful little-" Fudge began, outraged. Then, "Take him away, now!"

Draco smirked once more before being shoved again by Kingsley. He was jostled all the way up to the front doors of the building, where two Dementor's stood waiting hungrily for their next victim.

"He's all yours." Kingsley said in a deep, cold voice. He didn't care one bit about Draco. About the fact that from this moment on, Draco's life would be ruined forever. He didn't care about the fact that Draco would never see Hermione again. Ever.

I want the proposal to blow her away. It will be unexpected and incredibly romantic. She won't know what hit her.

Both Dementor's placed a scaly, rotting hand on Draco's shoulders, leading him inside. They did not need to tighten their grasp. Draco was already weak enough, and the happiness being sucked out of him by the Dementor's was beginning to take its toll.

The wedding will be exactly how she wants. Outdoors on a small hilltop, with family and close friends surrounding us. She'll look beautiful. Just beautiful. Like she always does.

Every Azkaban cell that the Dementor's and Draco passed was filled with silent men and women, each with white faces and blank expressions that only Azkaban can do to you. Draco noticed that many of them were Death Eaters. Old family friends. But none were his age. None were only seventeen years old.

We'll have three children. Two girls and a boy. The girls will both look as beautiful as she does, and the boy will follow in my footsteps and lead a strong, wonderful life, just like his mother's and mine.

The Dementor's unlocked a cell, sucking in the last of Draco's happiness as they forced him inside and locked the cell behind him. Instinctively, Draco reached for his wand in his back pocket. It was gone. They must have taken it. Draco sighed and fell into the large pile of hay in one corner of the tiny, stone cell.

And we'll live happily together forever and ever. Hermione and I and our three children. Forever and ever. One day, it will happen…

The cell door slammed shut, locking Draco in for what would be an eternity.