Disclaimer: Nothing affiliated with Harry Potter is mine, which is just about everything. I only own the characters, fanfiction plot, and some fictional spaces. Though nobody will actually attempt to sue me as I am writing on "fanficton".

A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I'm planning on it being a short story, objective and not with too many chapters but we'll see. I don't know how often I can write/upload since I have exams and what not. But I promise to try a weekly thing at least. I'll also try to keep the characters on point, but no promises. This is meant to have a sequel, but we'll see if I'm up for writing it once I finish this. yadda yadda, hope you enjoy and review (:

P.S.- Don't get mad at the story on the first chapter, nothing is as it seems, just a warning they'll be twists. (:

Ring around the rosie

A pocket full of posies

Ashes, Ashes,

We. All. Fall. Down...

How did it get like this? How did she get here? It was never supposed to go this far, no one was supposed to get this hurt, well at least, she wasn't. Her little girl now, oh her little girl. Tears drooped down her cream colored face and her knees felt weak. It was all such a blur, the past events, the moments, the sacrifices, the fight. Oh what to do now, how to live!

Maybe it would be better if she told the story from the beginning, or was it already the middle by the time she realized it had begun? No matter, the reader should know from the beginning that this is not a very light or happy story. It contains moments of hardship and war and one who is sensible to such things, should in fact not read it. This is the story of small Hermione Granger in huge dark world...

There was darkness surrounding her, an insufferable darkness like an incessant night, she could see figures. Was that her? Why was she running? Who was chasing her? From within the unfathomable darkness a peak of alabaster flashed her eyes to the point where they began to burn, she fluttered them opened. The back of her head stung terribly, her fingers traveled to the enormous amount of hair that lay looking like a dead bush a top her head. Her finger came back wet, dripping in dark red.

Looking at her bruised body and taking in her surroundings Hermione tried to get up. Her side felt lacerated leaving her physically impaired sitting against the wall. Her usually honey colored hair was filled with dust and was viscous due to the blood in her scalp. Her body suffered cuts and bruises, she could remember being chased, taken, thrown in here. She looked around, how long had she been here? A month? Two, maybe? She felt the world spinning again and all was dark.

When she reopened her eyes he was there again, she felt a small sting in the back of her head but it was relieved by the wet cloth that cleared away the blood. She looked ahead, she wouldn't dare look up into his eyes, somehow she knew he wouldn't bother looking into her tear filled ones. Her bones were too fragile to move, she didn't even wince. His pale neck came into her line of view and she couldn't take her eyes away. His scent drifted up her nose, but again she didn't move. He pulled out his wand and touched it to her scalp healing her wound the same way he would every night. Something was different about tonight...

He took the wand to each of her cuts, scrapes, bruises and burns. Took his time healing each and every one, making sure nothing was left. Then he put his wand away, grabbing her frail arm and pulling her anorexic body off the floor. She tried to stand, although the pain was gone she was still too weak to move. He picked her up off the floor and into his arms, she gathered the courage to look at his face and it was the last thing she saw as he whispered something to her and she knocked out.

–

There was music playing somewhere far away, a sweet melody, one she had heard somewhere when she was a child, a ballet tune, it drifted into her dream. She felt warm and comfortable, she sunk lower into the covers without opening her eyes, the soft feathered mattress comforted her and the blankets soothed her. How long had it been since she had felt this comfortable sleeping, not since before the war had begun. Her eyes fluttered opened. The war!

She looked around at her surroundings. There wasn't anything about this room she recognized. Not the colossal wooden bed embellished with carvings of the Fleur-des-Lys, nor the ivory covers over it, not the rocking chair in the corner or the window seat on the other side of the wall. She didn't recognize the mirror and vanity table in front of the bed and she definitely didn't recognize the closet filled with perplexing clothes that she could see from where she was.

There was something she recognized in this room though, he was leaning on the doorway, his pale blonde head looked at her with frozen eyes. Not cold, just frozen, empty of emotion. He moved closer to her and handed his hand for her to take. She did not want to take it, but her body won over her mind. Months of physical torture and exhaustion had stopped her from fighting back. She had rationalized it all, if she was still alive then they must need her for something, all that was left was figuring out what it was.

Draco Malfoy helped her get off the bed and place her bare feet over a thick fur carpet that was on the floor. She had a white gown over her body, the kind she imagined they would make the other virgin's wear. That is, if the rumors were true. She surely hoped not. She was led by the pale cream hand to a table sitting in front of the room's window. She sat very still, making sure not to make any move that would anger him, that would cause him to beat her. Not that he ever had, he hadn't ever been in the same room as her when she suffered the excessive and monstrous torture that was a daily routine. No, Malfoy would only show up hours later ready to heal the deepest wounds, but never the most shallow ones...that is until last night.

He fed her porridge, helping her by taking small amounts to her mouth and waiting silently as she chewed and swallowed. The warmth was entrancing for Hermione, she hadn't had a warm meal in so long, in fact she couldn't remember the last time she had a meal. Certainly long before she had gone into hiding, before they had captured her, before no one came looking for her. Tears swelled up in her eyes. Malfoy sat staring at her without moving a muscle. He stood and picked up a tissue, their hands brushed for a moment as he gave it to her. She didn't know whether to thank him or not. She didn't understand.

Wiping her tears away she observed him. He seemed restless, awake, like he hadn't slept in days. Like something was disturbing him gravely. She picked up her spoon and continued to take small bites, she was so hungry but her body didn't allow her the pleasure of eating a whole meal, not without regurgitating it later.

Malfoy stood near the table, making her feel insufferably smaller, like an unprotected child just sitting there. He took a deep breath and stared at the bright summer day on the outside. Hermione died a little inside, how could such a beautiful day be so dark?

"You should know," said Malfoy, placing his hand on the table, "the war is...over. There's no one left. Not from your side. This should not be a sad day for you. No one came looking, no one even tried and now they're dead. You, Granger, are the only muggle-born alive that's free, or as free as you're ever going to get. There are muggles, but they'll be rounded up soon. Everyone who is resisting is...it's over."

Hermione sat silent for a moment. She wanted to cry, but there were no tears left in her. It was all just a dark shadow hanging over her. The sound of ghastly drums sounded off in the distance. Hermione looked out into the vast valley that stood outside the widow. An enormous black shadow of cloaks swept the green of the valley as the drums thundered harder. In the years after the war had started she would have nightmares about those drums. Every time she heard them on the street followed by the siren that warned her to take cover she would hold her breath and pray to some upper power to end the madness. She would be answered with shadows...

"Why am I still alive?" she whispered weakly. Malfoy turned around and stared at her. The dark circles under her translucent skin made him wince slightly.

"You still have a purpose here. Your time has not come yet," he affirmed as he placed his hand over his eyes, rubbing them. It was not to his pleasing that she was still alive she could see. She didn't blame him, she didn't want to live either. If no one was left, if there was no reason to fight, what good was living in this world. Why hadn't they given her the pleasure, the decency to kill her with dignity? Why must she live where everyone is gone? Why would they keep her alive?

Malfoy covered his mouth with is hand, almost as if he was pondering and yet felt disgusted at the same time. Hermione looked down at her lap, her hands laying there almost as if there was no other place for them. She swallowed hard and closed her tired eyes. Malfoy walked to the closet and took something out, it was a dress, a white Greek goddess one. The neckline came from the thick straps that were the shoulders of the dress down to just under her breasts. Then it flowed softly to the ground, with a waist thick line that covered her abdominal, separating the top part of the dress from the bottom. The dress was long enough to have covered her feet.

"You will be attending a ceremony tonight," Malfoy said placing the dress on the bed. He pulled out a box from his pocket and opened it, placing it in front of her, he continued, "those belonged to a queen once." Hermione stared at the necklace first, it had a quarter moon with it's arch facing up and in the middle a woman figurine with her arms outstretched to touch each side of the moon. The earrings were small diamonds. This could not be the ceremony she had heard about, that one was much more violent, they would not beautify the women.

"It is the first of it's kind, the ceremony I mean." He was constantly looking down, almost as if he were scared or even ashamed of looking at her. "Don't mess it up," he declared. With that he strutted out of the room and closed the door behind him. Hermione sat for a while looking down. She did not know what to think at the time. She felt so lost and alone, oh to be a bird and fly away, or maybe the answer was just letting go. Maybe all she wanted to do was let go of this life that bounded her to this body which she felt was no longer hers.

Her thoughts did not consume her energy very long, for the next moment Bellatrix Lestrange entered with a small girl behind her. The girl had on nothing but a torn cloth. Bellatrix pushed her forward, Hermione stared at her tear stained face and frowned. Had she really just found something that sparked the tiniest bit of emotion after all these months in captivity?

"Her name's Diana, she's yours. She's one of you filthy things. Do with her what you wish, but don't let her go or she'll be killed." then the crazed haired lady spun on her heels and left. Diana wiped her face and walked toward the dress on the bed. She picked it up and handed it to Hermione to put on. Hermione pulled off her night gown and put on the the goddess dress, all the while looking with sad eyes to the young girl in front of her.

She couldn't be more than nine, her hair was dark black and her eyes were green like a deep pond, they held pain in them. Hermione couldn't understand why they were giving her a slave. Why they bothered, the young girl placed the necklace and earrings on a sitting Hermione and smiled. Then together they curled Hermione's hair, the muggle fashion, seeing as neither owned a wand.

Hermione looked at herself in the room's mirror, her collar bones stood out, she was so thin, in all her beauty. She did look beautiful though. Diana smiled roughly at her and Hermione couldn't help but to smile back as to assure her that everything would be alright. Somehow she felt the girl knew, knew that she too, was a slave.

Hermione walked into the closet and searched through the amount of clothes inside, rummaging until she found a nice pink dress that seemed casual and comfortable enough to walk around with all day. Hermione hoped this would work and so she whispered something at the dress that shrunk slightly. Hermione smiled and stared at her hand. How long had it been since she was able to do magic? Since the muggle-born registration commission didn't track her every move...

She handed the dress to Diana and told her to put it on. The young girl's green eyes widen as she couldn't believe that for once, since she had been in this household, she would get to put on something other than a rag. She quickly undressed leaving her small frame naked in front of Hermione, who could see scars similar to those she owned all over the girl's body. Anguish filled her body up and she turned around in order not to cry. She must not cry in front of Diana, she rationed. The dark-haired girl put on the pink dress and smiled, she hadn't felt this good since before the war. Maybe being assigned to Hermione wouldn't be so bad. After all Mistress Lestrange had said they were both muggle-borns, and something told Diana that Hermione was not standing in that house at her own free will.

The door burst open, it was Bellatrix again. She sneered at the pink dress that Diana was wearing and looked up at Hermione. She smiled.

"You look to the master's pleasing," she said careful not to compliment her. "Let's go, follow me. Diana, stay close behind" and with that she whirled around and almost floated towards the door. Her cloak bellowing behind her steps.

Hermione followed her close behind, lifting her gown up slightly so she could climb down the stairs. She was led to a wide hall filled with antique furniture. A large portrait of a young Tom Riddle hung on the wall. There were other empty portraits lined up next to it, like you would see in a royal family's house, except instead of the family line, there was only one portrait filled in.

She stared at the huge oak doors that stood in front of her. Her heart thumped slowly against her chest as her breathing heightened without making a sound...and then the doors opened and a burst of light blinded her eyes.

Hermione only remembered standing inside the circle room, never how she went in. Diana was standing in a far corner, cloaks and masks stood all around her in a circle and at the top of it was a high chair where a huge cloaked man sat. Hermione didn't need to ask who it was, she just stood and stared. The man stood up and walked towards her slowly. His hands traveled to the hood of the cloak and pulled it off. Hermione held her gasp.

The man under the cloak was not Lord Voldemort, or at least not the one she had been used to seeing. No, the man under the cloak was a very handsome Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"Welcome," he said with a cunning sneer. "I hope you have enjoyed your stay so far," he teased; "You do look quite...well" he said moving closer and touching her face with his wand. Hermione didn't flinch. Riddle smirked. Turning his back on her and walking back to his chair she continued,

"You're probably wondering why you're here, Miss Granger," the name felt like venom in his mouth.

"Not as much as you'd believe," she answered strongly, she might have felt weak, but she was not going to play the part. It didn't seem to effect the leader of the world.

"No matter, I'll explain either way," he said. Placing the wand on his temple he pulled out a string of memories, the greyish liquid solidified in front of the room. Everyone inside paused a moment and stared as the memory began to unfold.

It was Voldemort, Harry and Ron. They were standing face to face, wands drawn at the ready. Hermione gulped, then she heard Voldemort's voice.

"It's my final offer boys, kill the mud-blood's parents and I'll surrender, everything." Hermione could see him sneering at them.

"How can we trust you?" spoke Ron, oh Ron, how she missed him so.

"I brought you here and you're still alive aren't you?" Voldemort argued. "Gentlemen, I'm getting older, I have no time for silly games. It could be so simple, two mudbloods and the whole world would be safe from me. I'd go away and die silently, you'll be the heros. Besides considering the circumstances you're quite aware that I could kill you now and you'd win nothing." Ron and Harry looked at each other. Hermione could see her parent's sitting scared against a wall. Don't do it! She screamed inside her head.

Harry and Ron seemed to arguing about something, the discussion was getting heated, Voldemort was inspecting his nails. Hermione felt rage, pure anger like she had never felt before. How could they even consider such an offer. Her poor parents sitting there, fearing for their lives.

Harry and Ron had looked up, Voldemort continued with his sneer on his face. Then before Hermione had a chance to say "no!", she heard them whisper "Avada Kedavra". Harry and Ron looked down towards the floor. Draco Malfoy came into view suddenly, his wand was drawn, what was that look on his face, was that...disgust? Hermione couldn't think, all she saw was his wand being raised and the shot being sent towards Ron, who a second later was lying lifeless on the floor. Harry's eyes panicked he looked up at Voldemort.

"We made a deal," he yelled.

"I lied," Voldemort raised his wand and in the next moment Harry's lifeless body was lying next to Ron's. A strong sentiment hit Hermione in the gut but it wasn't sorrow, it was anger, pure outrage, acrimony, animosity, infuriation. She felt it build up inside of her like a force she couldn't control raging over her body, her mind was becoming blank, her insides burned with a wanting, a need, her body became numb.

Hermione's eyes turned black and her hair shot up almost as if hundreds of volts of electricity were running through it. Her arms spread wide, but she was not controlling them and a strong force ejected from her hands and was pushed forward towards the walls. The death eaters standing in the circle ducked as the force pushed against the stone walls and cracked them.

Voldemort grinned for the first time all night. He stared at Malfoy who nodded and pulled his hood away. He walked behind Hermione and held onto her waist with his strong arms. It was almost fatal. As if all the power that had been surging through Hermione's body was sucked out in an instant. All that was left was her limp body being held by his arms. Her eyes returned, her hair was perfection once more. She breathed.

"There you have it," admired Voldemort, "That is why you're still alive Miss Granger. You have a very powerful force within you, one that could do great things if incited correctly. Mr. Malfoy there is your counterpart. It is very peculiar, see judging by your backgrounds and personalities I assumed that Mr. Malfoy would be the one carrying such power and you would be his antidote. Hence why I've always kept such a close eye on him. It would seem it was my mistake, however. The moment I realized it, well I made sure you were brought to me."

Hermione didn't understand everything was hazy around her. The amount of power and energy she had just used was not something she was used to. She felt drained, almost as if Malfoy's touch left her weak, in every sense.

"Miss Granger, I wasn't lying when I said that I'm getting too old for this. It may seem to you like my ultimate goal is immortality but that seems a bit childish among all this, wouldn't you say? No, my plan is much bigger than that. I planned to cleanse the world of the filth in it. Contrary to your belief it was not blood I was talking about. It was morals.."

"What do you know about morals?" she interrupted angrily. Voldemort frowned, Draco slapped her hard enough to she fall on her knees.

"Don't interrupt me," Voldemort seethed. "Have you ever thought that maybe I didn't grow up amoral, you just grew up with the wrong morals? Did you ever question your own reality? Or were you just so willing to go against ours because it threatened yours? How are you so much better than us, Hermione Granger?" Voldemort's voice was soft and yet filled with rage. Hermione swallowed hard and grunted as she tried to get up.

"My plan is on the verge of fulfillment. I have gotten rid of those who poisoned the minds of my subjects and now I will destroy anyone who tries to oppose me. Mercy is given to those who deserve it, not those who sin amongst all others."

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was as if everything was traveling and spinning faster and faster around her. This couldn't be true, what was worse was that he was getting inside her head. Had she really never questioned the so-called dark side? Had she never tried to look in their perspective but had always believed the biased opinion of those around her? It all seemed so possible now that she saw Harry and Ron give her own parents up as a Sacrifice.

"My reign won't continue for long, one day I will want to finally rest in peace. I am quite tired, you know?" he continued. "But to ensure that my work was not all in vain, I will need someone to follow me. A line that shall continue by birth right, for the magical power you have is inherited, you are not the first of your kind Hermione," the snake-like sound to her name gave her chills.

"You and Draco will be married and succeed me to the throne. You will then reproduce a heir, one so powerful, they will finish what I have started and ensure it never ends. The bond between the two of you can not be broken. It will be the most powerful in all it's blood line."

Hermione gulped and stared at Malfoy, who's face was emotionless as he stared far away.

"And if I refuse?" Hermione asked. Voldemort sneered, a round of laughter spread through the room.

"You don't have a choice," answered Malfoy, who took a thin silver band with a princess cut diamond on top and placed it on her left ring finger. A bright line shone and encircled Hermione and Draco.

"The bond has been cast," whispered Voldemort. "This is Alpha..."