AN: That has been a long time, guys. Sorry. I've been spending much of my time reading and writing as part of potter-rp on Tumblr, where I play Hermione. There is some nice Bellamione smut there written by myself and Bellatrix's RPer, if you are interested. Lyrics are from Surrender to the Sea by Todesbonden.

- Ophelia

My desperation stalls me

Each move a fighting chance to see

Through veils of burning water

Dark seas envelop me

Hermione couldn't tell for sure why these words hit her as hard as they did. Ginny was at her elbow so quickly that it seemed she Apparated there, trying to pull the older witch to a bench where she could sit without looking like her knees collapsed, as she thought they might. "I'm not sure of this either, Hermione, but Kingsley has a reason for this, I know he does. Just – just try and hear him out first. You're smart, you'll understand where he's coming from," she pled. She seemed terrified, as if she thought her friend would lash out at her. The thought surprised Hermione; Ginny had always been a very close friend to her. They always shared her room in the Burrow; Hermione had given her advice on how to get with Harry; she had laughed with her about Ron's many misadventures. Hermione could never hurt Ginny, no more than she could harm Harry or Ron. The three of them were as family.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Miss Granger, a decision has been made by the Ministry of Magic in an attempt to keep another war from breaking loose. Please understand that we did not make such a choice lightly, but we had no other option."

Mrs. Weasley cut across her angrily. "This is an outrage. You think you can just dictate who gets married to whom? You think this is the best way to avoid more fighting? Why not punish the ones responsible for causing such terror and death? Kill the Death Eaters, do not punish our Hermione."

Mr. Weasley nodded in agreement. "These people killed my son. Your idea of vengeance is having them marry a girl as close as my daughter? Who are we attacking here?" His words were touching, but Hermione's head pounded as more and more people began shouting. Her head spun back and forth like an owl's in a desperate attempt to keep her eyes on the speaker, but there were too many. It grew louder and angrier in the room until Hermione stood up, trembling slightly.

"Hey! What are you talking about? Kingsley?" She stared at him, imploring. Hermione had an idea of what must be happening, but wanted him spell it out. Surely he wasn't thinking what she was thinking. It was utter madness.

"Hermione," he began in his deep, soothing voice. She had grown to dread the very sound of it over the past day, after hearing him give so much unpleasant news. "Tell me, what was the motive behind the Death Eaters in the first place?"

So he was going to make her figure it out herself, as if that would make it a more reasonable conclusion. If more than one person had the same idea, then it would probably be a more logical solution that anybody could see. Hermione thought she knew where this was going but refused to play along. She stood up, feeling the room's gaze upon her intensify. "Well, look at the name. They sought to conquer death." She tried to keep her tone as smooth and even as his, but her voice shook. The Gryffindor cursed it inwardly, but was somehow able to keep her expression blank.

He narrowed his eyes slightly but continued without displaying any further signs of anger. "Come on, Hermione. I know you don't like the idea but it is no surprise that they hoped to rid England of all Muggle-borns and enslave the Muggles. To them, there is no greater disgrace than being in any kind of relation with such people. People like you, people better than them but who they refuse to acknowledge as such." He paused, clearly hoping to cheer the witch with his praise. She shook her head frantically. It was clear what he wanted to say next, but they could not be true if he did not say them. They simply could not. He drew himself up straighter and continued. "It would humble them to marry those that they falsely consider less than themselves."

Chaos broke out across the room again. Hermione couldn't begin to identify who said what as everyone present began shouting at once, different voices screaming the same opinions. She sank back into her seat on the bench, stuffing her hands into her pockets to hide their shaking.

"You would let a bloody Death Eater marry our Hermione?!"

"Are you mad?! They would tear her apart! No offence, Hermione…"

"What?! You call this a solution?!"

"Hermione is one of our best friends! You would offer her up as a sacrifice?!"

"How could you agree on this?! Don't do it, Hermione! This is outrageous!"

Kingsley stood in the onslaught, calmly bearing the abuse hurled at him and the general Ministry of Magic for coming up with such a scheme. The girl was quiet as well, but his words had not really sunk in yet. He wanted her to marry a Death Eater. Best-case scenario, they would realize that she, with her inferior Muggle blood, was no different from them. Worst-case scenario, they would merely be ashamed to have her for a wife and not want to draw attention to themselves. The Ministry did not seem to consider or even care about the all too likely chance that they would simply torture her to death and be rid of their forced wife.

At last, Hermione had heard enough and stood up again, silence falling over the room. She turned to Kingsley. "You people want to decide on my entire future. At least tell me that I get to choose which bigoted murderer I'm forced to spend my life with." Her voice was as acidic as she could make it, abandoning keeping it flat and empty. Maybe she should pick Bellatrix, just to watch them squirm. Bellatrix and Hermione Black. It had a nice ring to it, but she would be a stain on the Gryffindor's future that she would never be able to shake off. After her death – and Hermione felt sure after seeing her break down today that she would soon be dead – she would never escape whispers of being a widow to the infamous psychopath. How surprised they would be when Bellatrix killed herself instead of her Muggle-born wife, though.

Professor McGonagall spoke again, her voice full of contempt. "Of course you don't, Miss Granger. That would make sense, which is not the purpose behind this endeavor." Kingsley frowned at her but refused to let his tone match hers.

"There is only one Death Eater within twenty years of your age, Hermione: the Malfoy boy. It seemed to be an obvious choice, and a logical one. Logic, Minerva. That is the driving force behind our plan. We will pass a law declaring that any unmarried Death Eater with the Dark Mark who is not incarcerated in Azkaban must wed a Muggle-born. Failure to comply will result in their imprisonment until they agree to marry. It is quite simple, really. They will have a week to make their choice and a month to wed, and that will be the end of it." His tone brooked no argument.

Hermione closed her eyes, overcome with exhaustion. Were they serious? They wanted her to marry Draco Malfoy, the nasty little ferret? It was a terrible irony; she was half considering his aunt only a minute ago. Marry him? Spend the rest of her life with a man she hated to make a political point? Furthermore, to punish a boy who had suffered greatly for trying to maintain his humanity in the midst of a war? There was no logic here, and certainly no justice.

Hermione could see it clearly in her head, the two of them on their wedding day. She could see herself as if through another body, resplendent in a flowing white gown, face hidden by an intricate lace veil. Draco would stand beside her, looking regal in his dress robes, which for some reason appeared colorless. There were flowers on every surface and both of their parents were sobbing in the front rows, out of joy or misery she could not tell. Hermione saw herself turn to behold the man she was ordered to be bonded to. The more Hermione looked at him the more he seemed to fade, until he vanished and was replaced with Bellatrix, still wearing his odd robes. The pair of them stepped forward to say the vows and the Death Eater collapsed, dead. Hermione watched herself screaming as she beheld the corpse, to which she was now lawfully wed.

"No," she whispered, but nobody in the wedding party seemed to hear. Everyone was clapping; rejoicing in what they were sure was a political victory. "No." She opened her eyes again.

Everybody had gone, aside from Ginny, who seemed to be asleep. Hermione looked around wildly, unsure of what had happened, failing to notice how the stars had come out in the enchanted ceiling above them. "Gin," she whispered. Why was she asleep? Her eyes opened blearily as she peered at her friend.

"Oh, you're awake, 'Mione. We thought you fainted but Mum said you were just tired and fell asleep. I stayed with you." She yawned and stretched like a cat, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "You still don't look well. You all right? Of course you aren't, nobody would be after news like that. Let's head up to the dormitories, ok?" She stood and held out her hand, which Hermione stared at as if it was a tree branch growing out of her arm. It was alive and whole, which seemed alien after such a dream.

She took a deep breath, an attempt to steady herself. It didn't work. Hermione grasped Ginny's proffered hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. "Yeah, Ginny. I just had an odd dream." She considered telling her about it, but soon decided against it. Half of the dream was forgotten by the time they reached the Fat Lady, but the image of Bellatrix's dead and lifeless eyes boring into the Gryffindor seemed imprinted on her brain. She shivered and climbed through behind Ginny.