A/N: Monster officially broke 20K views. You guys rock!

When I am king, you will be fast against the wall.

With your opinion which is of no consequence at all...

The wind violently whipped through the manicured hedges and trees as Fleur and Hermione arrived on the great lawn of the Malfoy Manor. The storm was oddly appropriate for the ominous aura exuded by the sumptuous mansion. Fleur clung tightly to a backpack as she stayed very close to Hermione, the latter holding aloft an arm in an attempt to keep the pelting rain out of their eyes. At the far end of the walkway stood two cloaked figures; the fabric of their robes billowing uncontrollably in the wind. As the two lovers drew closer, one figure began running toward them; the icy fingers of the soaking rain ripped the hood back.

Bellatrix.

She grabbed Fleur's bag and gathered the shivering blonde under the woolen barrier of her robe. Approaching the door, Narcissa Malfoy drew back her own hood; the pristine features of her noble face a fusion of a sneer and grimace; she looked as though she smelled something rather acrid but wasn't quite sure where the source of the smell was. Easing open the great doors, she welcomed the two witches into her home.

Comforting warmth enveloped them both like the arms of a lover, and Fleur released a loud sigh of relief. Two house elves appeared before them each holding a towel; both women graciously accepted them. Using the fluffy towel, Hermione smoothly wiped the moisture from Fleur's face, and wrapped the blonde into it's warmth. She pressed her lips to Fleur's forehead and leant to whisper in her ear, "I love you." Shivers, which Hermione could only surmise was from the cold, traveled down the French woman's spine. Narcissa cleared her throat audibly, grabbing the attention of the brown haired witch.

Hermione began, her voice awash with gratitude. "Narcissa thank you—"

The Malfoy matriarch had her arms crossed firmly across her chest. "Hush. Do not think this charity. It is only what the Dark Lord would've wanted." The words sounded forced, and tinged with melancholy. She hung her sodden cloak on a coat hanger by the doors. "I shall join you both in a half hour by the fireplace for tea. Do not be late. For now, the elves will show you to your room Miss Delacour."

One of the miniscule minions grabbed Fleur by the hand. "Beautiful miss must follow! Come now please. Mustn't keep the Mistress Malfoy waiting!" The elves lead the two women through a labyrinth of hallways and corridors, the sheer number of rooms in the manor nothing short of overwhelming. Eventually they arrived at a room in the manor's east wing. It was considerably larger than Fleur's room back in Hogsmeade.

"'Zis 'eez enormous!" Fleur stood flabbergasted in the doorframe, staring blankly at the equally enormous four-post bed. The elegant piece of furniture was adorned with fine silk sheets. Heavy curtains, black as the tempest roaring outside that contained them, shielded huge windows. Lightning cracked the sky as fat raindrops pelted and slid down the crystalline glass of the windows. Fleur turned toward the house elves and mustered a warm smile. "'Zank you both, I promise 'zat we will join Mademoiselle Malfoy 'een 'zee parlor shortly. I only wish for a few moments alone wiz my love."

The elves nodded and quickly scampered away into the abyss of the hallway.

"God I missed you." Hermione gave Fleur the kiss she'd long to give the other woman during her absence. Fleur kissed back with equal pressure, as if to convey everything she wished she could without words. "Two weeks without you is entirely too long."

"Oh mon ange!" Hermione was suddenly encased in a bone-crushing hug as the French witch threw herself at the brunette in exasperation. "I…I…" She sputtered.

Hermione rubbed Fleur's back in broad circles. "Shh…we're not in the clear just yet…who knows what Narcissa has planned for you."

"A warm bed. A roof over my head. 'Ermione…I know not what 'eez to come, but at least I can rest easy knowing we are still togezzer…and I am not on 'zee streets. Or 'een some brothel."

"The streets are entirely too dirty for a dainty Delacour…" Hermione craved levity, humor, Fleur's laughter, anything to lift the heavy sadness that permeated nearly everything that surrounded them. Both women knew they weren't nearly out yet, but anything was a welcome distraction.

Fleur's supple hand cupped Hermione's cheek, her thumb absently stroking the soft skin. "Oui…much too dirty." She smiled and gently took one of Hermione's hands in her own, and guided the young woman to the bed. Pulling Hermione's lithe frame on top of her own, she began to kiss her lover deeply, her candy tongue plunging into the depths of Hermione's mouth. The brunette kissed with equal hunger, and moans escaping from her throat as one of Fleur's wanton hands crept slowly up the smooth skin of Hermione's taut abdomen.

"Mmm…" Hermione groaned into Fleur's mouth. "Are you sure? Once you start me…there will be no turning back my love…" Fleur pulled away and nipped playfully at the brunette's lower lip.

"I 'avent tasted you 'een two weeks…" The blonde blushed. "I am merely reclaiming what 'eez mine."

Hermione's hips bucked at the words. "Mmm, I love it when you're possessive…drives me wild." Her own hands acted as if they had minds of their own as her fingertips dipped under the liner of Fleur's pants. Another pair of hands halted their journey.

"Not now 'Ermy…'zough I want desperately to feel you…we cannot keep Narcissa waiting…she 'as been kind enough to offer me shelter…"

"Though I'm sure it doesn't come without conditions." Hermione growled.

"Even 'eef 'eet does, I must honor 'zem. Behave ma belle. Please, for me." The pleading in Fleur's blue eyes was enough to quell the beast inside the Gryffindor, and she nodded softly.

"I promise."

They entered the drawing room with hands held tight, fingers threaded together. A dying fire crackled in an ornate Victorian fireplace, it's orange glow eerily illuminating the faces of the marble gargoyles and cherubs that adorned the mantle-piece. The warmth from the fire could scarcely be felt in the cavernous room. Narcissa Malfoy lay across a luxurious day bed, a tiny china teacup and saucer cradled in her slim fingers. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a rather complicated bun, and she wore an Asian silk dressing gown and matching slippers. Her fingers were adorned with several pieces of opulent jewelry, and each digit ended with a perfectly filed blood red fingernail. Even in the late hours of the night, she appeared as though she were royalty. The other Black sister sat across from Narcissa in an elegant leather chair, also silently sipping from a steaming cup of tea. The elder Malfoy made a slight gesture toward a third couch, an invitation for the two witches to take a seat.

Once they had settled Narcissa began to address them with a slow drawl. "Bella has at length explained your predicament to me, Miss Delacour." The words were like silk drawn from between her painted lips.

"Please, Mademoiselle Malfoy, call me Fleur."

"Fleur. As disconcerted as I am to welcome yet another person into my home, I must admit that I am somewhat pleased that you do not seem to be a Death Eater by any stretch of the imagination. I have been growing weary of them as of late."

"Non Mademoiselle. I assure you 'zat I am no Death Eater."

Narcissa's ghostly blue eyes flickered in the light from the fireplace. "I welcome you into my home, Fleur, on the condition that you are to be my personal handmaiden. One can only tolerate the pitiable groveling of house elves for so long." She took a long sip from her teacup, the pinky of her hand held outward.

"No!" Hermione stood defiantly, fists clenched tightly at her side. "You will not make my love wait on you hand and foot! Fleur is not some, some…slave for you to push around!"

Narcissa, clearly unaffected by the outburst, nonchalantly returned the delicate cup to its saucer. Her porcelain face furrowed with aggravation. "Miss Gaunt, it would behoove you take a seat if you wish for your beloved to be cared for." The blonde witch took another sip of tea as Hermione returned to the couch with a huff. "As far as slavery, I intend to do nothing of the sort with Fleur. She is to merely be my assistant."

Bellatrix frowned at the brunette, making a swift cutting gesture with her thumbnail across her neck. The adept legilimens' voice invaded Hermione's brain. Quell your anger at once foolish child! Cissy is not like her wretched husband. Put your worthless chivalry aside for once and refrain from biting at the hand that feeds!Bella's words harshly rang in her mind. My sister, she is lonely. Though she will never outright admit it, what she longs for…is merely a friend.

"I accept." Fleur nodded.

Crash! Steaming tea splattered across the oriental run as Bellatrix unexpectedly dropped her cup. Grabbing at her sleeve, the dark witch yelped in obvious pain. Ripping down the sleeve of her dress the dark mark was actively pulsating upon her arm. "He calls Cissy. He is coming...the others will be arriving too...you should go."

Narcissa nodded, gently placing down her teacup on the coffee table. She stood and absently smoothed the wrinkles in her silk kimono. "Come with me Fleur, you do not wish to be present for what is about to happen here." Extending a hand, Fleur took it with a trembling one of her own, and Narcissa helped the quarter-Veela to her feet.

Fleur shot a worried look toward Hermione, who did not budge from her seat. Be safe my love. The French witch mouthed as Narcissa gently pulled her toward the staircase. The two women disappeared upstairs, leaving Hermione alone in the drawing room with her godmother; who was busy stalking back and forth in front of the grand windows. Hermione stood and joined Bella by the glass; both women peered out at the raging storm, wind and rain running riotously through the trees and hedges of the great lawn.

"Did you know the Dark Lord was coming tonight?" Hermione asked, still staring straight ahead. From the corner of her eyes she could see Bellatrix nod. "Was I to be here for his arrival?" Bellatrix nodded once more and Hermione at once thought back to Fleur's despondent face as the resplendent Malfoy matriarch was pulling her up the stairs. "Is it also safe to assume that you saw the recent article on Veelas in the Prophet?"

"As much as I strive to not stain my eyes with that codswallop they try to pass as journalism, I'll admit the headline caught my attention…and the Dark Lord's as well." Bellatrix gave a slight sigh. "Before you had contacted me, He asked me to fetch you from the school. I suppose the dire situation of your lover made my task much easier."

"This must mean that I have reached the bottom, for I don't know how else my life could get any worse." Hermione shrugged. "Though I must thank you for convincing Narcissa to share her home. I am uncomfortable with Fleur being her handmaiden, but I suppose I should trust Fleur's judgment."

Bellatrix frowned. "Yes you should." Snapped the older witch thrusting a skeletal finger at the younger witch's chest. "Trust helps to nourish a relationship. Take it from one who has been shackled to a mongrel husband in a loveless marriage for decades. Without trust the bonds forged between two people are weakened and inevitably they will rot away. As such I ask that you trust me when I say Cissy will bring no harm to your beloved."

"Does the Dark Lord have a plan for me?"

"I would not be surprised. He knows that Helen's great gift has been passed on to you. And he knows the extent of the devotion you have for Fleur...and how you would do anything for her. It…" The dark witch seemed to struggle with her words. "…almost makes me jealous. You are both beautiful together. Despite the misery and pain that seems to surround you both…the smiles that you wear for one another…radiant like the sun." Bellatrix looked down at her feet, the sadness in her voice surprising Hermione. "I once knew a happiness like that for a brief time in my life…but it is long gone now."

They stood in stillness watching the grounds for movement. Both women held similar stances, arms crossed, leaning slightly back. Hermione broke the silence first. "You killed my Uncle you know."

"What?"

"Sirius Black. He was my Uncle. Of course…I never knew him as such while he was alive."

Bellatrix said nothing for a minute. "I…"

"He was also Harry's godfather. Not sure if you cared to know that as well. Harry has wanted your head ever since the battle at the ministry."

"I…I am sorry."

Hermione looked over at the older witch with great surprise. "Sorry? You killed him without a thought. You even laughed about it."

Bellatrix' lips curled into a snarl. "I was doing what was expected of me. Sirius dared to interfere with the Dark Lord's plan, and as his warrior, I had to cut him down…" The words became weak as she ended her thoughts.

"Sirius was cast out of your…err, our family was he not?"

"Yes…but I had no part in such decisions. He chose his path, and Aunt Walburga had his name stricken from the family tree. Regulus' untimely death, and my…murdering of Sirius…the Black name died with them both." Bellatrix sucked in a deep breath. "And yes, I am sorry. If I could go back…"

"You know, I never imagined for once in my life that I'd be having a civil conversation such as this, with you. Your very laughter used to haunt my dreams Bella. To hear guilt and remorse from your lips I must admit …it's a little disconcerting."

Bellatrix frowned as she spied the first sets of cloaked figures apparating one by one on the great lawn. Her face remained trained on the courtyard as she spoke calmly. "It is only after we've lost everything…that we're free to do anything..." Her last words were but a harsh whisper as her eyes narrowed in disgust at the sight of Wormtail and Fenrir. The two men suddenly ducked off to the right. "Where are they going? Are we not meeting in the manor?" More Death Eaters arrived, and they too went toward the right. "Quickly, take Cissy's cloak. Something is amiss." Hermione did as she was instructed and followed Bella back outside into the thunderstorm. Gravel crackled underneath their shoes as they crossed the expanse of the lawn and stayed near to the other death eaters making their way to what appeared to be a rather dilapidated barn. There was no light to be seen from the barn as the figures vanished into the shadows once they entered the barn's slightly ajar front door. After a tense few minutes, Bellatrix and Hermione ran toward the portico, and the elder witch halted the brunette with a raised arm.

"Know this…" Bellatrix began with a harsh whisper. "Believe me now when I tell you that I am not sure of what the Dark Lord has waiting for you inside. He was quite vague when he requested your presence…"

Hermione silenced her godmother with a nod. "It's alright…I am ready. Trust me." With that the two entered the barn and were instantly submerged in total darkness as the barn door slid shut on it's own accord.

The barn was deathly silent, the only sounds being Hermione's rapid breaths. Blindly Hermione tried to reach for the dark witch, but found that she could only grasp at nothingness. She could no longer smell Bellatrix' perfume. She was alone.

"Hello? Bella?" Hermione called out in a timid voice. Suddenly she could hear distant shuffling and a frantic sounding muffled sound; a man was calling for help somewhere across the barn. "Who's there? Hello? Bella where are you!"

"Mmmph…Hlmph meph…" Responded the stifled voice. Concealed by something held tight over a mouth. Hermione paled at the sound, her heart hammering in her chest. The room burst with light and she recoiled as her eyes burned from the hasty retreat of the darkness. Once her eyesight finally adjusted a dreadful scene had greeted her. Bound forcefully to a chair was a man with a burlap sack over his head, struggling wildly against his bonds and his chest was heaving up and down rapidly in fear. Like a group of vultures, up above them along the wooden rafters sat all of the elite death eaters. Finally out from the shadows walked the Dark Lord, his deformed face concealed by his drawn hood.

"Miss Gaunt…" Began the Dark Lord with a bow. "How nice it is for you to join us on this stormy night. How are things? I trust that school is going well? Not falling behind on our studies now are we?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow in confusion, her gaze never leaving the tied up victim. "It's…alright I suppose."

As if triggered by the mere sound of her voice the body in the chair writhed uncontrollably and cried out once more. "MMmmph Hermmphione!"

Recognizing her name amongst his screams Hermione began to sweat, "Who is that!"

"Ah, ah, ah! In a moment. I just wanted to first see that you are faring well. Word of your little scuffle in the courtyard has reached my attention. How dare little Parkinson insult your beloved. I thought you would like to know that her parents have already been dealt with. Perhaps now they will know to keep their insolent child on a shorter leash." He began to draw closer. "Now as for who our friend is here…why not go ask him yourself?"

Hermione cautiously approached the bound man, each calculated step making her knees grow weaker. The man continued to thrash about and grate his nails hard against the grain of the chair, hard enough that they began to bleed. Hermione looked up at the rafters to see the numerous pairs of eyes that glittered like the eyes of an approaching wolf pack. She desperately searched among them for Bellatrix, but the dark witch was nowhere to be seen. "Go on Hermione. See the gift I have gotten for you…" Her hand came to rest upon the sack on the man's head and she curled her fingers around it. Whipping it free with a harsh jerk of her arm, she could feel bile rise in her throat at the sight of unruly fire red hair, and a pair of blood shot green eyes staring in pure terror at her.

It was Ron.

"H-h-hermione! What're you doing here! G-g-get me out of here!"

Confusion.

Anger.

Confusion.

Anger.

A battle waged inside the brunette's conscience as she stood paralyzed to the spot, gaping at the struggling Weasley. Knees rusted in place. Aside from being bound, he appeared to be unharmed, if not a bit rattled, his freckled face had gone raw with tears. Her eyes wandered once more toward the rafters, hoping Bellatrix would appear. Still, the dark witch was not there. Voldemort's red orbs were lurking in the far shadows behind Ron, blinking every so often in silence. Ron began to struggle again. "Hermione! Come on, get me out of here! Tell them I'm of no harm! I don't know where Harry is!"

Slowly she began to approach the struggling red head, and circled him predatory-like. "Ron…how did you get here?"

His face was incredulous. "Hermione! Why does it matter how I bloody got here! They're all around me, they're gonna kill me!"

Hermione frowned. "Something isn't right here." She looked toward the Dark Lord, who still was unmoving, not offering words or gestures. Ron continued to struggle. Turning to face the Dark Lord she called out, "What will you do if I let him go? Is he free to leave?"

Emerging once more from the shadows Voldemort simply smiled and bowed his head. "Yes. He is free to go wherever he so desires. I shall still my hands. His fate merely rests in yours."

Ron's eyes bored holes into the brunette. "'Mione! Tell me you're bloody joking! Let me go!"

Hermione bent over to his eye level and snarled at him. "Promise me that you'll drop your stupid vendetta against Fleur and I. PROMISE you'll convince your bloody mother to let her back to live in Shell Cottage with Bill."

"Are you…bargaining! I'm tied to a damn chair! This is a nightmare! Why does any of this matter? And furthermore, why do we have to argue this in front of them?" He screamed.

"Give me your word."

He spat angrily. "Great. Just great. My life holds less value than your adulterous relationship. Phlegm's thrall must really have you under a spell. You're certain Phlegm doesn't have you and You-Know-Who imperiused?"

Veins and arteries constricted within her the instant the derisive nickname slipped from Ron's lips. Brow knitted furiously she wanted to will herself to awaken from this nightmare. A yen to awake in Fleur's arms nestled in an ocean of blankets on their bed. Her id and superego sat upon her shoulders, screaming at each other back and forth, and the argument was becoming one sided. She felt her rage begin to physically manifest as warmth and sweat. Ron's lips continued to move, his face contorted with anger, but the sounds from his mouth were but a muted reverberation against her eardrums. It hurt. Tears burned her eyelids as she began to focus on Ron…who was rapidly descending from a former friend…into a target.

With a wave of her hand she undid the incarcerous curse that held Ron to the chair and she began to back away. Legs shaking like rubber, Ron stood and began to stumble away from the Dark Lord, who, true to his word, remained still as stone watching the interaction between the two Gryffindors. The red head's jerky gait toward the door of the barn was punctuated by several stumbles. One would've suspected he had gone on a bender. Approaching the young witch, who's back was turned to him, he reached out a hand toward one of her shoulders. "Come on 'Mione, they're letting us go…I don't know bloody why, but I'd rather not take my chances. Gotta get back to Lav, she's probably worried sick."

Levicorpus!

Ron's head and neck whipped violently as he was brutally levitated off the ground held up by an invisible force clutching onto his right ankle. His arms flailed and the pure fear returned to his face as his eyes stared back at Hermione.

"HERMIONE! What the-"

The brunette did not move, her gaze was trained upon his rapidly reddening face, blood like rushing into it in torrents. Crucio! As though he was a hooked fish pulled out from the water, his body convulsed and writhed in a sickening pseudo-dance. A scream ruptured forth from his mouth as his body palpitated from side to side, his limbs like branches caught in a hurricane.

CRUCIO!

Tears poured from her bloodshot eyes as she willed the curse upon him. "P-p-p-please…m-m-make it stop! Her-her-hermione! PLEASE!" The words poured from his mouth much like the inundation of saliva that literally flowed from it. At the sound she stopped the curses, callously dropping his body like a child's forgotten rag doll on the ground.

"Take that as a warning. You're lucky I don't try to kill you for your words!" She screamed, a finger pointed like a gun at his head.

"H-h-hermione…you're bloody in-insane! Your blind d-d-d-devotion to your Veela is turning you into a lunatic!"

Whipping out her wand from her pocket she aimed it at the red head.

"CRUCIO!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, and she watched the bolt audibly exploding from its tip like the bullet from a gun throwing the boy into another fit. His face struck the ground hard and there was a sickening crack as his nose broke on impact. Unexpectedly Ron's body began to contort and change before her very eyes. His fingers shrunk and became swollen, thick tufts of black hair emerging all over his skin. His many freckles became liver spots and moles as his tall frame became significantly more wide and squat. Before long, Hermione was greeted by the sight of Peter Pettigrew, nose bleeding profusely and sniveling at her feet in a fetal position. Hermione turned to face the Dark Lord, her confusion and shock evident on her face. "What…? WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!"

The Dark Lord laughed and began to clap as he walked toward the brunette. "Wormtail is an excellent little actor is he not? Lucky for you he is also quite the masochist. Oh my dear Hermione…I can practically taste your delectable rage on my tongue. Your anger knows no boundaries. Tossing aside many years of friendship in a matter of minutes. Had the polyjuice not been such a weak dosage, you might have killed him am I right?"

Hermione felt vomit rise in her throat and she began to desperately choke it down. "This is disgusting. Horrid! How dare you play with my emotions like this!"

"How dare I? Hermione, this is all your doing. You could have just ignored his ignorant tongue and let him walk out of here. Youdecided to torture him. You decided he wasn't worth saving. You feel so much anger, and have no means to channel it."

Falling to her knees Hermione began to sob. "What do you want with me…just please…stop playing games with me! Stop with all the smoke and mirrors…I don't know how much more of this I can handle…" Her head instantly was buried in her palms, her sobs coming with violent heaves of her chest. "Please…" She relented.

The Dark Lord had broken her.

Voldemort grew serious. "Hone your skills. It should be evident now, more than ever, what you are capable of. Think of what you can accomplish. Think of the world you can mold for you and your beloved with your very mind." He began to pace. "Bellatrix will impart on you her knowledge of legilimency and occlumency. You still have much to learn." He continued to ramble about her telekinetic abilities, but Hermione scarcely paid attention; the words were just muted sounds.

She felt empty. Desiccated. Devoid of emotion. She had finally hit bottom. The world was a cruel place. Her understanding of the machinations of the world, carefully built up over her many years of existence, had been shattered in a matter of minutes. Previously unsure of where she belonged, she knew that her frail hopes for a future lied with the Dark Lord now hovering over her like an obelisk. Her logic also understood that there was great hypocrisy in this decision as the Dark Lord himself was full of hate, but the Ministry, she reasoned, was no different. Society was no better either. She felt exhausted. Tired of being cast aside, and abandoned by all whom she once loved.

As if on cue the Dark Lord spoke to her emotion. "There's a time to discriminate Hermione…hate everyone that is in your way."

Getting to her feet, Hermione steeled herself. Her choice was made clear. Bring down the ministry. Make them suffer. Make it burn. She and Fleur deserved better, the rest of the world, could go to hell if it wanted. She turned to face the Dark Lord and gave him a nod.

His skeletal fingers laced together. "Excellent…you are to begin immediately, for time is running out."

Whooping sounds and applause echoed from the rafters. The Death Eaters cheered as the Voldemort held his arms skyward in a broad motion of victory. "My friends, it is done. The trio is no more! Hermione Gaunt is home!" One by one the Death Eaters landed on the barn floor in plumes of black smoke. Bellatrix appeared to Hermione's far right, and the instant she landed, Hermione rushed toward her, Bellatrix wrapping the younger woman in her arms. Tenderly, Bellatrix began to stroke the top of Hermione's curls as the girl's cries came in waves.

The Dark Lord held his arms wide once more and instantly the group was silenced. "Before we depart tonight, I must impart upon you all the plan we are to follow to once and for all solidify our hold over the Wizarding world as we know it. The Boy is held at Hogwarts, under the watchful eyes of not only the Order, but a veritable army of Aurors. If we try to breach the castles defenses now, it will only mean crushing defeat. Furthermore the Ministry will certainly respond with a surge of recruitment to further press us down. That is why we must stretch them thin…" His eyes scanned the multitude of darkened faces surrounding him and his thin lips curled into a ghostly smile. "But before we strike we must create a little…entropy. Hermione my dear…this is where you come in."

The brunette shuddered as her name slipped like ooze from the Dark Lord's mouth, and Bellatrix pressed a cheek to the girl's head, shushing her gently.

"It has been brought to my attention that the muggles are preparing for a rather grand event…one that will have attendance in the tens of thousands."

"The Queen's Diamond Jubilee." Deadpanned Hermione. "It will be a national holiday."

"Ahh yes…the Jubilee. Disturb the hive by disturbing its Queen!" He gave a laugh at his impromptu witticism. "The Aurors will be called to this event as many mudbloods and half-bloods will likely attend. It is here where we will make our move. We shall divide our ranks into two groups. The first, to be led by Bellatrix, will be tasked with doing what she does best…creating utter mayhem. The muggles will have delegates from several different nations in attendance, some of which are currently at war with each other. Bella…stir the proverbial pot. Aurors will confiscate all wands and will likely have many jinxes and hexes in place for security measures. Hermione you shall accompany dear Bella and create a little pandemonium with that marvelous talent of yours. The muggles will be thrown into chaos, and the minister and his Aurors will instantly be overwhelmed...as will the entire nation. The muggles fear terror. And it is terror that we shall bring as a gift to their Queen."

Lord Voldemort looked toward the two women and Bellatrix gave a stoic nod; her orders clear and understood.

"A second team, led by myself, will strike at the Ministry that very same day when the time is right. It will fall, and when it does we make our preparations to remove the final obstacle…the boy." Uproarious applause rose in a booming crescendo as the Death Eaters vocalized their approval of the plan. The Dark Lord, not amused by their celebrating silenced them once more with a lightning fast casting of a fire spell, the flames catching on a few robes. "SILENCE! We have but three months to prepare…Hermione you must continue your training. You are the key."

"My friends..." He smiled and brought his hands together palm to palm. "Let us slay." The cheers resumed. And the Dark Lord turned as if ready to leave.

"WAIT!" Hermione shouted; a hand extended and she stumbled free of Bellatrix' hold and onto the ground. "P-please…all I ask is just one promise."

Voldemort's face twisted with confusion as he neared the frantic girl. "Yes?"

"If the ministry is disbanded…destroyed…please…set my Fleur free…destroy the phylacteries…please…let us have that happiness we've been denied…"

Voldemort scanned the many faces of his followers; none had moved a collective breath drawn in deep amongst them. He returned his gaze upon Hermione. "It will be done."

A/N 2: Snuck a Marilyn Manson line in there, and the line quoted at the top is from "Paranoid Android" by Radiohead.

A/N 3: Oh and if you haven't checked out my profile, I created a 'fic-track' (AKA soundtrack-trying to be witty here) for Monster. Basically, if you haven't figured it out by now, each chapter title is from a song either that basically inspired the action, I just happened to be listening to it at the time or just seemed oddly appropriate. Think of it as the music that plays in the background of a movie. (If that makes sense) Check it out if you've got the time!