A/n…Thank you to everyone for your kind and constructive reviews : ) I really appreciate them all.

I'm slowly going through my old chapters and fixing all the spelling and grammatical errors that seem to be so prevalent. TW This next chapter has violence.

Chapter 37

"Get up, you filthy mudblood," The man before Hermione said. He was a far sight from the crazed man Hermione had seen at the battle of Hogwarts. Antonin Dolohov's face was lined deeply, and he looked much older, as if he had aged three times as fast as a regular person. His hair had gone predominantly gray, as had his beard. His flat, brown eyes met hers coldly, and Hermione could see a faint scar running from his temple down to his jawline. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes and his brows seemed to hang low. He looked somehow hunched over, as if he was too tired to stand with good posture. He looks like a man that has been drained of his energy, she thought as she looked him over.

When Hermione didn't immediately get up, Dolohov brandished his wand at her. "Don't make me hex you, mudblood," He said icily, taking a step towards her. His voice sounded gruff and intimidating but Hermione noticed a slight tremor in his hand that caused his wand to shake slightly.

Don't show fear, she instructed herself. She took care to get to her feet slowly, being mindful of not looking clumsy or scared. She tried to hold her torn robes up with one hand, suddenly very aware of how exposed she was.

"Come forward," He huffed, beckoning her with his wand. Hermione could make out two figures behind Dolohov, a younger man and a raven-haired girl.

As she neared the door, Dolohov grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her forward. But Hermione steeled herself and refused to register any pain he caused her.

"We haven't got all day," He barked in her face, obviously annoyed at her lack of urgency. "I could kill you right this minute if you displease me," He breathed in her face.

"Than why am I still here?" She challenged back before she had time to filter her words. She was met with a slap across her face that stung and made her see stars.

"Shut your whore mouth, now." He growled at her. She knew he didn't have the authority to kill her, because if he did, she would be dead already.

"You would think a filthy mudblood with so much to lose would show a little more respect," The raven-haired girl said, brandishing her wand toward Hermione now too. That's Pansy Parkinson, Hermione realized, meeting Pansy's sharp green eyes. Pansy looked like a feral cat compared to the slump figure of Dolohov. Pansy stood ram-rob straight, with an electric air about her, as if she was full to the brim with manic energy. Her eyes darted around wildly, taking in all of Hermione. Never thought Pansy would be so happy to see me, ha!

Hermione swept her eyes over the other figure as Dolohov pulled her through the doorway. It was Marcus Flint, and he looked just as ragged as Dolohov. Life under the Voldemort regime must not be as grand as they thought. Marcus had his hair cropped very short, and Hermione could see some scars across his scalp that snaked down his neck. One eyelid seemed to hang lower than the other, giving his face an off-set look. He had dirty hands, with soil caked under his nails, and his robes hung about his figure raggedly, as if he had lost a great deal of weight since purchasing them.

Dolohov pulled her down the corridor as Pansy and Marcus flanked her from the back. Despite being held so closely by a Death Eater, and how badly her body hurt, it felt good to breath air from outside the room she was trapped in.

Is this the headmaster's office? She thought wildly as Dolohov brought her to a familiar gargoyle statue. The statue filled her with an odd feeling. She hadn't been at Hogwarts since the battle was lost, and she hadn't truly ever thought of it as taken over. In her mind it stood stately and magical, with all her dreams and learning experiences still lingering in the halls. Now it was an insidious place, full of malice and deceit.

The room she was being held in could have been any old room, in any old place, but this gargoyle statue was unmistakably Hogwarts-esque, and the odd feelings of tainted nostalgia couldn't be pushed away.

Dolohov leaned closely to the statue and whispered something to it that Hermione couldn't hear, and suddenly the doorway to the office was opening and she was being pulled inside roughly. He shoved Hermione towards a wooden chair and muttered "Icarcerous," as he waved his wand towards her. Thick ropes sprung forth from the end of his wand, binding Hermione tightly to the chair.

Pansy and Marcus shuffled through the door, pansy giggling smugly to see Hermione tied up.

"We Have some question for you, girl," Dolohov rasped but Hermione didn't answer. She was too busy craning her head to see the headmaster's office. Most of the portraits of previous headmasters were gone from the walls, save a few. Albus Dumbledore's face smiled down at Hermione from his perch, and Hermione could see a black-haired woman, a few feet above Dumbledore's portrait, and a stately looking man in a black pointed hat, but the rest were gone. The walls were a deep green color now, and Hermione couldn't remember if they had been green before. All of Dumbledore's curios seemed to be gone, including Fawkes, Hermione noted sadly. The office smelled like burnt wood now, where as before it had smelled faintly of peppermint.

"Hello, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said from his portrait, and winked at her. She couldn't stop her mouth from opening at the musical sounds of his voice, and all the memories it brought with it. But she didn't have time dissect her thoughts, before Dolohov's raging voice erupted from behind her.

"YOU WILL NOT TALK TO MY CAPTIVES YOU BLITHERING OLD MAN!" Dolohov roared from behind her, causing gooseflesh to break out across Hermione's skin. "I WILL FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET YOUR PORTRAIT DOWN AND I WILL CUT YOU INTO PIECES AND THEN BURN THEM ALL ONE-BY-ONE-"

"Enough, Dolohov," A silky voice said from a shadow in a corner of the room, cutting off Dolohov's rant. Hermione craned her neck to see that Blaise Zabini was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking at Hermione with cool, intelligent eyes.

"Zabini, how did you get into my office?" Dolohov barked at him, his face reaching new shades of red, as a vein started throbbing on his forehead. They're going to give him a heart attack, Hermione thought to herself placidly. Perhaps that will be the distraction I need.

"This has nothing to do with you, Zabini." Pansy said acidly, as she walked further into the office. She sounded as petulant as ever, turning her nose up at Blaise. Her high heeled bots clicked against the stone floor, and the sound echoed into the vastly high ceiling. She certainly commands an air of attention.

"Oh, I think it does Parkinson," Blaise replied coolly. He was the only one Hermione had seen so far that looked normal. He didn't seemed fatigued, injured or haggard like Flint and Dolohov appeared. He didn't seemed filled with strange, manic energy as Parkinson did. How is he managing so much better than them?

"Enough bickering let's just get it over with," Marcus spoke, sounding irritated and impatient. "We want to know what you and the rat were doing in the forest. Don't lie to me mudblood, Malfoy's already told me everything."

Hermione had to refrain herself from rolling her eyes and laughing. They would have killed her already if Draco had snitched her out. It would have meant Draco's life, as well, and she had a feeling he was still alive.

Hermione took her time before replying. She craned her head up to look at Dumbledore's portrait again, and he favored her with a small sly smile, as if they shared a joke.

"Narcissa was feeding information to Moody for a long time. Lucius did not know this, but Narcissa feared Voldemort would kill him-" Before Hermione could finish A hard hand landed on the back of her head that sent her reeling.

"That's Lord to you, mudblood," Dolohov spit in her ear. Hermione tried not to show pain. Don't look weak.

"So Narcissa hoped to trade information with safety if the tides should turn for her family. I don't know how much Draco was involved in this, if at all. I know Moody showed up with them both one night and the next the death eaters were upon us. Draco fought with us, and then later took me captive, explaining that he needed to bring me for redemption, and he didn't want to risk someone else capturing me, so he fought with us against the death eaters." Hermione sighed and tried to look angry.

"Liar!" Pansy hissed and slapped Hermione hard in the face. "Filthy mudblood liar!" Pansy reached into Hermione's hair and wrapped some of it into her fist, pulling hard. Hermione's head rocked forward with the force of it. "You will tell me the truth right now," Pansy demanded, tightening her grip. Hermione's head swan with the pain Pansy was inflicting.

"That's it," Hermione managed to gasp out, as Pansy pulled her hair. She didn't want to appear weak, but it was so hard. She was half starved, and sleep deprived. How could she possibly stand her own against them?

"We know you're lying," Dolohov spoke from behind Pansy.

Pansy, who's facial features had always looked cruel and sharp to Hermione, seemed to soften somehow. Her face rearranged itself into a mock-sympathetic smile and she leaned in close to Hermione. Pany's breathe smelled sour, like old milk.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you as much as I enjoyed killing that pathetic oaf Weasley," She whispered sweetly into Hermione's ear.

"It's not true," Hermione whispered back, the tears already forming in her tired eyes. I refuse to believe it. It's a ploy to get me to talk. She told herself, as the noose around her heart tightened and she felt that familiar feeling of drowning again. She looked up into Dumbledore's portrait, hoping for strength, or perhaps for some word from him that It wasn't true, but his portrait stood empty. Hermione felt the noose around her heart tighten again, and the office around her swam from view as she lost consciousness.