Author's Note: I couldn't wait another week to post the next chapter. I just wanted to thank everyone who stuck with this story despite the computer crash of 14.

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I am not profiting off of this story. I also do not own the quotes used at the beginning of chapters.

Warning: This is a dark story. It has dark themes. This is meant to display more of what a real war might be like. There will be sensitive subjects.

"The worldly and heartless lie in wait for the naïve and innocent. We were young, and vulnerable, weak,

and half-sick, but no longer naïve or innocent." VC Andrews

21 July 1999

Hermione had to wonder what the real world looked like. Had Voldemort gotten every person against him rounded up? Had he killed off all the muggles in England? She could only imagine he was coming closer to his goals with how Mudblood Town had been treated in the last week.

With Anna by her side Hermione had gotten used to her daily pattern. They would go into the factory and help the older women in any way they could. They would grab food from the carts, or stop by the dining building. Then just before night fell they would go to sleep, and do their best to sleep through as much of the day as possible.

Or at least that's how it had been. But things had changed during the last two weeks of July. Subtle things, that most of the muggleborns hadn't noticed until they had become serious.

The men in the fields were no longer growing food, instead they were digging. No one knew why but none of the men dared complained. The fruit and vegetables ran out and were never replaced. Even the food in the dining building became more like the slop Hermione remembered from solitary.

It had happened so subtly over 14 days in July but then they were hit with reality. The Death Eaters no longer needed the towns to look like a nice place. For some reason they didn't need to convince people to turn themselves in anymore.

The only explanation Hermione could think of was that everyone else was either in hiding or dead. Dead was more likely. She had wondered briefly if the boys were experiencing the same troubles but she quickly realized that spending her energy on thinking of them only hurt her in the long run. The boys were a painful memory, and for all she knew that was all they would ever be.

More punishments were being doled out as time went on. Hermione no longer saw younger children playing in the dirt round like she had that very first day in April, or even after her solitary. Now even the children assisted with jobs, boys following the men into the fields and young girls going into the factory.

There had been two cases where a muggleborn had been killed for no reason. Perhaps the guard had been bored, or maybe the muggleborn had looked in the Death Eater's direction; either way they had been hit with the Avada Kedava quicker than anyone standing in the streets could comprehend.

The Death Eaters had left the bodies there. The two people had just sat in the road until another muggleborn took the risk of moving them. As far as Hermione knew the two people had been buried and no one had been punished for it yet.

Hermione felt certain that whatever was happening was only the beginning. It would only be a matter of time before worse things started occurring; what was worse she wasn't sure of yet. Anna's optimistic attitude had, for the most part, remained intact even as the town crumbled around them. Hermione hadn't been as carefree, any hope she held during the beginning of her time in Mudblood Town had vanished as quickly as their food supply.

Without food to sustain them many of the older men and women were failing to complete their jobs on time. Old men who got little sleep and almost no nutrition didn't have the energy to dig useless trenches in the ground all day. The women couldn't focus their eyes on their needlework for long periods of time. And the Death Eaters were starting to notice.

"MB4000402." The number rang out across the town.

It was something they had gotten used to over the last few weeks. Death Eaters would call out the number etched in someone's arm and that muggleborn better report quickly or else. Hermione wasn't sure what happened to those who were called, no one had talked about it since it started happening. This time she worried because she recognized the number.

Leslie Potts was an eighteen year old girl who had paired up with Hermione and Anna. She was sneaky and charming on top of being a conventional beauty. It was thanks to her that Hermione and Anna hadn't starved since the food depletion. Whatever Leslie did kept them well stocked in bread, and on occasion she'd even return with an apple.

She was one of the few who didn't hide the tattoo away. Most of the muggleborns wore long sleeves, or wrapped their arm in an attempt to hide away the truth of the situation. After all they had all gone to some type of primary school before finding out about magic, the muggleborns knew the last time in history people were branded with number tattoos. Leslie seemed to be the only one who was willing to look at it during the day.

Hermione had taken to hiding her own number during the daytime but at night she had often found herself tracing the numbers with her fingertips. Somehow the number printed on her arm upset her more than the word etched into her skin.

Hermione searched the crowd of people for any sign of Leslie. There were too many women crowding her to see one small girl moving amongst them. Hermione could only hope that Leslie would be safe, that she would be back in her bed by the end of the night.

Hermione was doing her best to ignore the growling in her stomach as she walked towards the cots Anna, Leslie, and she shared. They had pushed their beds close together so they could talk in hushed tones without disturbing the young kids.

She was sore from her work in the factory. As sore as she was from working inside she certainly didn't envy the men. Her feet and legs ached from standing on the concrete floors of the factory all day, her back was sore from hunching over a table for most of the afternoon, and her eyes were tired from staring so intensely in the bad light.

All she could think of was getting to sleep. Her worries of Leslie had all but vanished from her mind as the day had worn on. Her desire to eat wasn't strong enough to keep her awake through the pain. In the hell that was her life she had one thing to look forward to –falling asleep.

However Anna and Leslie sitting on their beds arguing quietly would quickly destroy any hope for sleep she had. Leslie was doubled over on the bed, her face in her hands. Her chest was heaving as she shook from excitement, fear, or sadness Hermione didn't know.

Anna had stood before Hermione even reached the cots. She had a smile on her face and clearly whatever she was talking about was only causing Leslie even more pain. Hermione did envy the young girls optimism at times, but her youthful arrogance was something Hermione was glad to have outgrown.

"I wouldn't be so worried. Soon someone will realize our supplies have dwindled and we'll either be transferred like the others or they will supply us with what we need. Personally I look forward to having soap for the showers again. Rinsing off doesn't help me feel clean at all. But just you wait!"

"Shut up, Anna!" Leslie cried out through her hands.

"Come now, one worse day isn't the end! Didn't Dumbledore always say that happiness could be found even in the darkest of times?" Anna said with a small smile, patting her friend on the back.

"I don't care what the old fool said, Anna!"

A few months before and Hermione would have taken offense to the phrase, just like Anna was. But Hermione had to agree with Leslie even though it killed her inside. Dumbledore was supposed to protect them, all of them, but he was too busy working in metaphors and mysteries to be clear about what needed to be done.

Albus had entrusted the most important mission for all of wizarding kind to a young boy and his fool hearted friends. Had Dumbledore just been honest, straight forward about what needed to happen maybe they could have prevented this horrible war from continuing.

Then again, had she not pulled Harry off the grounds maybe the war would have ended…

"Leslie, that's no way to think." Anna cooed.

"Just shut up! You are so stupid! You're innocent and naive and it'll get you killed! You want to pretend the Death Eaters care about our well being? Have you forgotten what Voldemort was all about, already? There is no light, there is no silver lining they will kill us all!"

Leslie was yelling loudly enough that the children around them had taken notice. It wasn't as though she was saying anything they hadn't all been thinking at some point. But it was much worse to hear the words so seriously yelled.

"Guess what, Anna, they don't care about any of us. They will kill you without a second thought, if they don't work you to death first! Don't you wonder what happened to the Smith boy, or Janet, or the old woman who used to sit outside the factory? Can you really be so stupid to not realize what is happening to people? Well, go ahead! Be stupid and optimistic while you stare death in the face, but don't do it around me!"

Anna was nearly in tears before she ran off, most likely to find another bed for the night –after all so many had opened up in recent weeks. Leslie had gone back to holding her head in her hands. Hermione could see she was heaving again. She never shed a tear but in every other aspect she was crying.

"Leslie." Hermione said softly not wanting to startle her.

"Go ahead and tell me how horrible I am."

"You aren't, Anna probably needed a good dose of reality at this point. What happened?"

Hermione was smart. Leslie might not have been an optimist like Anna but she would never have gone off how she did in front of children who needed hope to get through the day. Something had to be wrong and Hermione could only assume it had to do with her number getting called out.

She sat on the bed next to Leslie and wrapped her arms gently around the other girl. Leslie seemed to melt into the embrace.

"I was called before Major."

"What!"

Within the town they had come up with names for the Death Eaters, a ranking of sorts. Major was the Death Eater in charge of the entire town. He gave the final orders to all the other Death Eaters, and so far he had been the one in charge of punishments. He was a large, bulky man with grey hair and a scar that ran from the corner of his nose down his lips to his chin.

Most of the muggleborns who had been called in front of him never returned. Janet had been one of them. She was a woman in her mid thirties who had little to do with the war other than her blood status. She had been called to see Major and never returned.

"Leslie," Hermione said after the other girl remained in silence, "you need to tell me what happened!"

"I have a decision to make. Life or death."

"Why would they give you that choice?"

It didn't make any sense. No one had gotten a choice in what happened to them. As far as Hermione knew everyone they killed had just been murdered without any forethought.

"They don't want elves anymore." Leslie croaked out.

It took Hermione a moment but soon enough she understood. If the Death Eaters no longer wanted elves to do their dirty work then someone would need to take the elves place. Who better than people the pure already view as animals?

"Oh God, Leslie. What did you say?"

"I didn't have to say anything. Either I report to work tomorrow morning or I'll be killed. The thing is life would be easier being a slave than being trapped here. I mean they would have to make sure you were fed at least enough to keep up with work. And I'd probably get a new outfit that wasn't so dirty, so I wouldn't muck up the house. But…"

Hermione stared at the younger girl, she was barely an adult and faced with so much.

"What, Les, what else could they possibly do." Hermione asked.

She went to pull the girl into a tighter hug and could feel Leslie flinch under her. Shifting on the bed had been painful, not enough to vocalize but enough for her to wince, and that was something Hermione had never witnessed Leslie do.

"They want play things, someone frail and too scared to fight back. Someone to do housework during the day, and whatever they please at night. That's how Janet got out, they haven't killed her. She's working at Captain's house. Major even said if I took the job I would see her now and again."

Hermione stayed silent. She didn't know what to say, or if Leslie even wanted advice. Other than the play thing stipulation, the job sounded good enough. Food and housing away from town, having the opportunity to see others on occasion. But Hermione couldn't get past the play thing issue, she wouldn't be able to.

She had very little to hold onto in this life. One thing she would have to keep was the small bit of innocence she had left. To throw that away to a Death Eater in hopes of staying more comfortable… well Hermione didn't think she could do it.

But Leslie wasn't her, and her life had been completely different from Hermione's before their time in town together. Leslie had already been with a man she loved, she had experienced that happiness that she could hold onto during troubled times. More importantly Leslie wasn't as strong as Hermione, she couldn't stand much longer of living off bread crumbs and feeling too weak to stand. Hermione couldn't blame her for that.

"What will you do?" Hermione probed gently.

"Can I do it? Can I really do something knowing that if this war ends in our favor I'll never be able to look at myself again?"

"That's up to you."

Hermione didn't want to lose her friend. She had clung to Leslie and Anna since they connected with each other. They had slowly dulled the ache in her heart from leaving the boys behind. It would never be completely filled by the girls but if Leslie left the ache would grow stronger.

"Do you think this will end anytime soon?"

"Honestly?" Hermione asked and only responded after Leslie had nodded, "I think the only way for this to end soon would be for all of us to die. Which could happen at any time. When I was on the run I told Ron these towns would be terrible. I knew here we would all be sitting ducks."

Her honesty did little to comfort Leslie. In fact it did little for either of them. Hermione's mind was filled with the fear of losing her friend, but which would be worse. Could she survive knowing Leslie was merely taken as a slave, or dead. Dead the girl still had her integrity, her dignity… but life might just be worth losing everything for. Hermione held Leslie in her arms. They were the two who knew what would happen. Anna might have her optimism but Leslie had a clear vision of the world around them. She and Hermione leaned on each other, and Hermione was about to lose her forever.

A.N.: Well that is it for another chapter of NJC. I really hope everyone enjoys the developing plot .