Hello, all. I have to say I'm very pleased by the positive response to the first chapter. A huge shout-out especially to Hymnophile, who leaves me the loveliest reviews and has agreed to be my beta. While I was waiting for her to reply to my latest PM I outlined and wrote this chapter and, as she will learn is a common trait in me, got very excited about it. So excited that I edited it myself and am now posting it. This won't become a habit – I'm sure she will help me greatly. But as we don't yet have a system worked out… this will have to do. Hymnophile, please forgive me.

I do NOT always update this fast' this is just my "OMG new fic" excitement phase. Thank you all for reading.

Chapter One

The Minister's Mistress?

Hermione was alone again, but she didn't honestly mind that much. The world was in such a mess just then that a little alone time was good for her. As much as she loved Harry and Ron – especially Ron – she needed her time to think, to process things.

Things had changed since sixth year, and not the way they'd meant them to. They'd wanted to slip quietly out of school, for everyone else's life to go on as it was before while the three of them went off in search of the Horcruxes. It didn't quite happen that way.

After Dumbledore's death, the Wizarding World had no clear leader. The Board of Governors voted unanimously that Minerva McGonagall should stay on as Headmistress of Hogwarts – it was easier for them to do now that Lucius Malfoy was off the committee. Though Pius Thickness had died at the Battle of Hogwarts, there had been enough Death Eater infiltration of the Ministry already that Lucius Malfoy had been named the Minister of Magic. Of course, Voldemort ran the show from backstage, and everyone knew it, but it all amounted to the same thing: the Ministry of Magic could no longer be trusted.

The Order had fallen, too. With a Malfoy in power, it was too easy for the Death Eaters to round up most of The Order's members. Most were dead, and those who weren't were in prison.

Hermione made herself a cup of tea and sighed. What she wouldn't give to have them back – any of them! Especially the Weasleys. Poor Ron was not taking it well that his mother and George were in prison. Or that his father, Percy, Fred, and Bill were dead. Charlie was on the run, and Ginny was in America with Neville and Luna, recruiting new members where the darkness hadn't quite reached all the way.

But it didn't have to be a Weasley. Anyone– especially an adult who knew what he was doing – would have been more than welcome just then. It was really down to the three of them, because anyone who wasn't in prison or dead were all hiding. It was too much, too hard. They couldn't handle it all alone, she knew that. But she was far from willing to give up.

Ron and Harry were away that day on a mission to Surrey. Moody had sent them word that he'd heard about a Muggle attack there, and the boys had taken off at once. She didn't mind being left alone anymore. It was routine. Someone had to stay behind to watch over Headquarters – especially in case someone tried to contact them.

Someone like Severus Snape. She took a long, deep drink of her tea and sighed. They knew now that Severus was innocent. It had been all over the papers – his storming out of the Ministry with a swarm of Death Eaters on his tail. He'd only managed to contact Harry once, letting him know why he'd killed Dumbledore, but he'd been silent ever since. They didn't even know if he was still alive.

But surely, Severus would know what to do! It was driving her crazy. He'd been working more closely with Dumbledore than any of the rest of the put together. He would have to have a plan! Or, at least, some insight.

She let her eyes wander around the kitchen to the table, where that day's Daily Prophet sat. The headline made her stomach churn. "Malfoy Declares War on Muggle-Borns." Right there, in big, bold letters. Of course. Muggle-Borns. Maybe it was just as well that she was hiding here. She knew of too many people – friends, Hogwarts students, and Order members – who'd been captured for their blood status and hadn't been seen since. She flipped over the paper so that she wouldn't have to look at Lucius Malfoy's smug face smiling up at her anymore.

She heard voices upstairs and her heart skipped a beat. Harry and Ron couldn't be back already, could they? Who, then? She reached for her wand, and tried to tell herself that she was being silly. The house was under all the protection that the Ministry could give – they'd managed to get special wards before the Ministry had fallen. Maybe an Order member… someone who had escaped from a Death Eaters.

A gentle breeze brushed her face and she heard a triumphant woman's shout from upstairs. "Down there!" Bellatrix Lestrange crowed. "And she's alone!"

"I told you she would be, didn't I?" Lucius Malfoy sounded distinctly annoyed. "Bellatrix, please realize that I do in fact know what I am doing."

Hermione's mind raced as she glanced around the kitchen for a hiding place, her fingers curling automatically tighter around her wand. How could they get in here? They had the strongest protection available… The Ministry.

Oh god. The Ministry. How could she have been so stupid? Of course. When the Ministry fell, any protection on the house would have died. They'd been too busy focusing on other things to think about that. And there were so many prisoners who could have broken the Fidelius Charm under torture… Oh god. They were so stupid!

She supposed that hiding under a table wasn't very dignified. If she was going to go down, they'd have to drag her down kicking and screaming. She crouched at the foot of the stairs, wishing she hadn't been in the basement. She might have had more places to run.

Footsteps echoed on the steep, stone steps. She saw a too-shiny man's shoe, and heard the swishing of expensive robes. And a woman's hushed voice, and a man shushing her. She muttered a quick shield spell and glanced around the room quickly, noting all possible crevices and hiding places.

"Granger," said a silky voice. An instinctive shiver ran down her spine. The last time she'd heard that voice, she'd been in the Department of Mysteries, watching the world crumble around her. She could almost hear the breaking of glass, and the voices of a thousand smashed prophecies.

"Malfoy." She kept her voice surprisingly steady, and her hand went out behind her to grab onto the table for support. Why couldn't Harry still be here? Harry would know what to do. Harry always kept his head around Death Eaters. Even the ones who wanted to murder him.

"Alone?" the woman crooned, appearing behind her brother-in-law. She pouted at Hermione, her eyes huge. "Did they leave you all alone again?"

Hermione wasn't a particularly vengeful person, but hatred curled in the pit of her stomach. Bellatrix Lestrange. She'd killed Sirius. She'd been there when Dumbledore died. More recently, she slaughtered Tonks and tortured Bill Weasley to death.

"I suppose you sent people to Surrey?" she said coldly, her eyes flicking between Lucius and Bellatrix. They both had their wands out, too, but casually. Both seemed relaxed. Too relaxed. They would have to have a plan. To distract her, maybe? One of them would divert her attention while the other did the deed and killed her. Or perhaps they would both attack at the same time. She would have to watch their stances to see if they both tensed suddenly. Maybe they were in the front as a diversion while someone else snuck around the back? But the rest of the kitchen was empty. Hypothetically.

Homenum Revelio, she thought desperately. But the only life forms in the room were her, Lucius, and Bellatrix. Good. She didn't have to deal with an attack from the behind. Of course, one of them could sneak around her… Her brain spat ridiculous ideas at her, each one less plausible than the last. Maybe they were just going to duel her outright. Yes, that would make sense.

"Surrey?" Lucius raised a carefully plucked eyebrow with a perfectly innocent expression. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hmm." Hermione nodded absently, watching Bellatrix more closely. The woman's fingers were shifting on her wand, pressing together more firmly.

She had her wand up before Bellatrix could shout her spell, and she deflected it back easily. Bellatrix fell to the ground, hit by her own curse. Hermione wanted to grin in triumph but she recognized that it had been a distraction when she felt someone moving behind her – she whirled and her hair hit a furious Lucius Malfoy in the face. She sliced her wand through the air and he bore down on her, his own wand flashing with nonverbal spells that came almost too fast for her to block.

She ducked and rolled under the table, which started burning when a curse meant for her hit the Daily Prophet. As she came back to her feet, she noticed with pleasure that the headline she'd so detested was burning…

"Crucio!" Bellatrix screamed.

Hermione fell to the ground again and crawled into the corner behind a huge, oak cabinet.

"Fool!" Lucius roared. "The point is to knock her out, not hurt her. Bellatrix I swear to god if you harm her…"

"Get over yourself, Lucius," she sneered. "Just because you want the Mudblood doesn't mean we all care what happens to her. She's still valuable if she's a little bruised. It might even make things better, wouldn't it? You and your crazy… I remember how you were with Narcissa –"

"SHUT UP ABOUT NARCISSA!"

Hermione frowned. Unhurt? Since when did the Death Eaters care what happened to her? She was just a filthy Mudbloo –

A jet of red light shot past her, barely missing her cheek, and left a crater in the wall. She jumped to her feet and drew her wand but she realized they'd cornered her.

She fought hard, she fought bravely. She used every spell in her arsenal, she stopped trying to use good spells and she tried to Cruciartus Bellatrix while she held Malfoy off with a full-body bind, but Bellatrix managed to duck and Malfoy fought it off and they both advanced on her…

And then Hermione had to realize, had to admit, that she was losing. She'd known it from the beginning. She was a good fighter. She was at least as good as Ron and almost as good as Harry, but she was fighting two grown Death Eaters, who had been trained extensively in the Dark Arts by Voldemort himself. And she didn't have backup, so when they stunned her she fell and didn't have anyone to distract them before she woke up.

Yes, she fell. She fell in a graceful arch, her hand going limp as she dropped her wand. It wasn't a crumpling, but a swoon, and Lucius Malfoy scooped her up in his arms before she could hit the ground. Bellatrix picked up the wand after a sharp glare, and the three of them left Grimmauld Place silently.

***

Harry, Ron

I've gone out for a quick walk. Back in a few. Don't worry, I'm fine.

~Hermione

"Harry?" Ron called. "Harry, is Hermione upstairs with you?"

"No, I thought she was downstairs!" Harry called back. "Why do you ask?"

Ron's heart was in his throat. "Harry, I think something's wrong. She's not here. Come look."

Harry thundered down the stairs to where Ron stood in the front hall, holding a bit of parchment between his trembling fingers. He snatched it up and recognized Hermione's handwriting at once. "A walk?" he repeated dumbly. "Since when does Hermione leave the house when no one else is here?"

"That's what I'm wondering," Ron said shakily, glaring at the piece of parchment like it had committed some horrible crime against him. "She's more responsible than that. She wouldn't leave the house unattended, just in case Snape or Ginny called."

Harry curled his hand into a fist around the paper. "Something's wrong, Ron. I think Hermione's missing."

They searched the house up and down. They went around the neighborhood to see if maybe she really had needed a breath of air. They asked all the neighbors if they'd seen a bushy-haired know-it-all walking around the block.

But after five hours of searching, it seemed as if, for all intensive purposes, Hermione Granger really had gone missing.

***

Things without Hermione were very different from they were used to. She'd been the brains behind everything they did, the planner, the plotter. They still kept their contacts watching, their ears and eyes on the Death Eaters. They still lurked around the Daily Prophet, and stalked the Ministry of Magic. They kept up their search for Horcruxes. But nothing felt right anymore. They didn't do it nearly as neatly as they did when they had her planning things. And they lacked the spirit.

Neither of them was willing to say it aloud, but they were worried for her. Very worried. For two weeks, they hadn't heard a word. It would make sense for the Death Eaters to target her – not only was she working with the resitance, but she was a Mudblood. But surely there would have been news of her capture, or of her death.

Nothing.

Not for two, long weeks.

And then, exactly two Mondays after Hermione's disappearance, an owl came with the most interesting Daily Prophet that either of them had read in a very long time. It was Ron who met the bird, and who took the paper from her. He paid the subscription fee and walked inside, still sleepy and in his pajamas.

Harry was making coffee down in the kitchen when Ron came in. The redhead sat down and unrolled the paper, reaching gratefully for the mug that Harry gave him –

– And spat the coffee out immediately.

"What, isn't it good enough for you?" Harry said, annoyed, his head poking into the refrigerator as he looked for another carton of eggs.

"Blimey, Harry." Ron wiped off his face and spread the paper on the table. "Come here."

Harry sighed and came over. "What? Prophet bungle something up agai…"He trailed off as his eyes fell first on the headline, then on the picture below it. "Oh."

"Oh," Ron echoed softly.

"That's her, isn't it?"

"Better bloody not be."

Harry leaned forward, gripping the table to keep from pitching on his face. "'The Minister's Mistress?'" he quoted softly. "Ron, look at the picture. I'm sorry, mate, but that's her."

"It can't be." Ron shoved his chair away from the table and stormed back upstairs. Harry took his vacated seat and looked at the picture more closely.

Lucius Malfoy was standing on the front steps of his manor, wearing dark dress robes and turning his back to the camera. Instead of smiling at the photographers, he had his hand to the door, reaching out for the hand of a young woman. She, too, wore dress robes – hers of a deep green – but they were indecently low cut and far too tight. She was hiding her face, and Harry could see that her bushy hair was tied up in an elaborate knot at the back of her head. He'd never seen Hermione wear such high heels, nor paint her nails so brightly.

Bellatrix Lestrange stood behind her in the doorway, dressed to match Lucius, her face gloating as she poked the green-robed witch in the side with her wand. As Harry watched the image, Lucius glared sharply at his sister-in-law and took the green-robed witch's hand. She accepted it reluctantly, and he turned her to face the cameras. Hermione.

But Hermione hated makeup, and here she was, wearing more perfectly done, heavily applied makeup than Harry had ever seen on anyone decent.

She looked pained to walk down the steps, arm-in-arm with Lucius Malfoy, wearing Slytherin Green, but she kept her head high as he led her through the crowd of photographers and into a waiting vehicle.

Harry pushed the paper away, feeling nauseous, but not before he saw the caption under the photograph.

"Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Hermione Granger seen leaving the Malfoy Manor for a dinner at the home of Theodore Nott, Head of the Department of International Cooperation."

Ron was going to throw a fit.

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