A/N: Hello, my dears! Yes, I'm still alive. And I'm back. I don't know if anyone's still waiting for this saga to end, but as I kept saying all these years (gosh! Has it really been that long? Ugh! I'm an awful person!) this story will have a proper ending. We might have to crawl to get to the finish line, but we'll get there. Eventually. (wink wink)

But seriously, I want to apologize for my super prolonged absence. Things went crazy for all of us, I'm sure (covid, lockdowns, more lockdowns, etc.) and I hope everyone's doing better now. I'm not justifying my tardiness, but I hope this clears up the air a bit. I believe I owe everyone who spent time reading this story my sincerest apologies for keeping you hanging. I won't make any promises (you guys know my issues) but I'll try to be more 'present' in the future (pun intended).

Anyways, I hope this chapter helps us all get back on track. It might feel like a bit of a filler, but it lays the groundwork for things to come. Let me know your thoughts, ok?

Chapter 38

The Price of Freedom

Draco thought being away from Hermione would be hard. Reality proved him wrong. It was pure hell. There wasn't a minute, not even a second, that he wasn't thinking of her. Knowing she was in the hands of the darkest wizard of all time made it much, much worse. His mind could not stop thinking of all the perverse spells Voldemort might use on Hermione. He wanted to run to her, yet his practical, and too rational mind wouldn't let him. And though he hated it, he had to agree with it.

For one, he didn't know where she was. For another, going after her on his own would amount to nothing but his, and her, premature death. He needed help, something he rarely ever asked for or even acknowledged needing. His Malfoy pride wouldn't let him. But for Hermione, he would swallow his fucking pride even if it was as big as Britain itself. And to do this, he must let his Slytherin self take over completely. No more emotional outbursts or useless, sentimental bullshit. Only pure cunning and wily manipulation. Blaise and Theo would see right through him, but he didn't care. As long as they played to his tune, he didn't give a rat's furry ass if they saw his fear.

Yes, deep inside, Draco Malfoy was scared shitless. Scared, not only for Hermione, but also for and of himself. He'd never been on the warpath before. And what he had coiled inside him, what he finally realized he was capable of doing, petrified him. He would not hesitate to sacrifice anyone and anything if it meant saving Hermione. He would watch the world burn to ashes without batting an eye as long as Hermione was safe. His only purpose and goal was to see her walk away from this nightmare, whole and unscathed. But first, he must become a puppeteer. He must use people to achieve his purpose. And he already had a few in mind. In fact, he'd already started with his machinations.

He brushed away the guilt at sending his friends to do his bidding. It wouldn't help his situation. Besides, he only asked Sebastian and Daphne to go to the Room of Requirement and see how the others are doing. While Theo and Blaise were on a simple reconnaissance around the castle. He did not send them to their deaths, for fuck's sake. The other people on his list, he wouldn't mind sending to more dangerous territories.

The biggest challenge was Lucius. He must convince Voldemort's right-hand man to bring him to Hermione. He must convince his father of his need for justified gloating. It was something Lucius would understand and even encourage. It would demand a lot from his reserves, but he would give his very life if it would free her from Voldemort's clutches. And if he had to pretend to enjoy seeing her in such dire straits, he would do it without any qualms.

Next, he must push Toffler to find the Time-turner. Once they find the blasted trinket, everything would change. He would not even have to trick his father—

"Drake! Something terrible happened to the others!" Daphne cried as she barreled into the room, with Sebastian following behind. Both looked like the Giant Squid had tried to turn them into its evening meal.

"Daph, why are you telling this to Draco? Have you gone daft? His father is the bloody Minister!" Sebastian said, pulling Daphne away, his back turned to Draco.

"Why shouldn't I tell him? He's also a Resistance member," Daphne said as she attempted to brush Sebastian aside.

"Wait…what? He's in the Resistance?" Sebastian said, looking aghast.

"Of course he is! He even went to America with Abigail to rescue Harry," Daphne said with a sigh. "I wanted to tell you everything, but things went mental. Just trust me, okay? Draco's not working for the Minister," finally getting past a gaping Sebastian.

Sebastian looked shell-shocked. But after a heartbeat, he shrugged, and followed Daphne back to Draco.

"They're all gone. The Room's completely destroyed," said Daphne.

"Totaled, actually. We wanted to help, but there were Death Eaters," Sebastian said.

"And there was blood everywhere—"

"They took Neville! He didn't look good—"

Draco held up his hand, but the two kept on talking over each other. He could not understand a word they were saying, which left him with no choice. With a swish of his wand, he silenced his overwrought friends. It took them a while to realize what he had done. Daphne dropped to the bed, her wide eyes filled with tears. She didn't even try to Finite Draco's silencing spell. Sebastian slumped beside her and draped an arm around Daphne's trembling shoulders. With another wave of his wand, Draco lifted the silencing spell.

"Now, tell me what happened. One at a time, please," he said.

Sebastian took a deep breath and launched into a toneless recounting of what they saw. By the end of his tale, Sebastian's face was as pale as an Inferi's while Draco's was as hard as cut marble.

"It was horrible, Drake. When we got there, the room was already completely destroyed. Amycus was supervising the attack. We don't know how he found them," Daphne said, her voice breaking.

"They must have followed one of the Resistance members, or they have spies in the houses. I wouldn't put it past them to Imperio a student, to do their dirty work," Draco said. "You said Neville's injured, and they took him? Who took him?"

"We saw Amycus levitating him out of the room, all bloodied but still alive. He looked like he passed out, though. We wanted to follow, but we also didn't want to risk discovery…" Sebastian said with a shake of his head. "I should've done something. I should've tried to at least help Neville. We trained for this! I should've helped!"

"No, you shouldn't have. Or else you would be in the same boat as Longbottom," Blaise said as he and Theo barged into the room.

"What did you find out?" Draco said, turning to the new arrivals.

"Nothing much, except that Death Eaters have taken over the school. Amycus is keeping everyone under close watch. No one can leave the dorms without permission or an accompanying guard. Good thing one of them is under Nott Senior. He didn't bother us much when he saw us wandering the halls."

"Your father's here, too?" asked Draco.

"No. Nott Senior holds himself in such high regard. He wouldn't bother doing something so menial. He sent his men, of course," Theo said.

"Who else is here, Theo? Do you have any idea where they're taking Neville?"

"Amycus is the highest-ranking Death Eater around, as far as I can tell. Unfortunately, there's no telling where they're taking Neville. If I were to guess, though, I'd say Malfoy Manor since Amycus is subordinate to the Minister."

"We can go back out and try to gather more intel," Blaise said, sitting beside Daphne. "Are you okay, Daph?"

Daphne nodded. "I'm okay. But I'm worried for Astoria. I don't know how she's taking all this. She's still a bit fragile, you know?"

"Go to your sister, Daph. We'll let you know what we'd do next when we get a better handle on things. Seb, go with her. Check on the other Slytherins, too. Not everyone is happy about this latest development, for sure," Draco said.

"Okay, we'll send you whatever information we find as well. Just send word if we're ready to move," Sebastian said, his fingers tapping his chest.

Theo and Blaise nodded, understanding what Sebastian meant. They're to communicate using their crystals.

Draco caught the silent message and muttered a muffled curse. If only Hermione had not discarded her ring, he would've had a way to reach her, too. Although now that the initial rage at what Hermione did had subsided, he understood why she did it. Hermione didn't want to risk Voldemort finding it as he would use it for his own nefarious purposes.

Still…

Stop it, Draco! Focus on the here and now.

Daphne walked up to him and gave him a quick hug. "Be careful," she said, turning to Theo and Blaise. "I have a feeling things are going to get worse."

"Don't worry about us, Daph. Cowards live to fight another day. And we definitely want to fight another day, but only as a last resort," Theo said, giving Daphne a gigantic wink.

Daphne nodded, her sad smile did not reach her eyes. Sebastian gave them a lopsided grin as he ushered Daphne out of the room.

As soon as the two were gone, Draco slumped down on his own bed and cradled his pounding head. All he could think of was Hermione, yet he knew there was so much more at stake. His friends were counting on him to come up with a plan. And he didn't know where to start.

A loud pop to his left broke the pregnant silence of the room. He sighed in relief when he recognized the unexpected visitor. He should've thought of him.

"Dobby! You're actually the person I needed to see," Draco said, causing the elf to blush.

"Master Draco needing to see Dobby?"

"Yes, I did. But first, tell me why you're here."

"Archie told Dobby he got them all out, except for one, and to tell Headmaster Snape, but Dobby doesn't know where he is. Does Master know where the Headmaster is?"

Draco shook his head, feeling a pinch in his heart. "No, unfortunately, I have no idea where Headmaster Snape is."

Dobby's ears fell flat against his head, deflated by the news. But then he brightened when he seemed to remember something. "Why did Master want to see Dobby?"

"Ah, yes. I need to go back to the Manor. Can you take me back there?"

"Of course, Master. Take my hand and I'll—"

"Hang on! Someone's sending a message," Blaise said, pulling out his crystal pendant.

Theo followed suit, but frowned. "I don't see anything. It seems the message is for your eyes only."

"Really? I didn't know that's possible," Blaise said, marveling at the crystal in his hand. "Well, anyway, the message is from Ginny. She said Harry wants to see you, Draco, and asks if it's possible to break into the Headmaster's office."

"What? Why would the Chosen One want to break into Snape's office? Has he lost his marbles? With all the Death Eaters lounging about, he'll be dead faster than he could say Expelliarmus," Theo said.

Draco wondered about it, too. But then something Hermione told him before made him believe Harry's request wasn't so mental. "I think I know why. But how will he get here? The passage connecting us to the Shrieking Shack might no longer be safe." A slight tugging on his sleeve made Draco look down at the gnarled fingers gripping it.

"Dobby can help," the elf said, his eyes as bright as his smile.

"Of course! Why hadn't we thought of that? Dobby can go anywhere because of his elf magic. We're a bunch of morons!" Theo said, thumping Blaise's arm.

"Speak for yourself," Blaise said with a smirk.

Theo turned red and was about to slap Blaise's arm when Draco cleared his throat. "Quit horsing around, you two. We're still in a crisis here."

"Sorry," Blaise and Theo said in unison.

Draco gave them another deadly glare before turning to Dobby. "Bring Harry here, Dobby. And be careful, okay? I don't want any heroics on your part."

"Dobby will be careful. He will take care of Harry Potter," the elf said before disappearing with a loud crack.

"No heroics, Dobby," Draco said, but Dobby was already gone. He could only hope that the elf followed his instructions to the letter. House elves tended to put their lives at risk when protecting a human. Chosen One or not, he didn't want anyone risking their neck for Harry Potter. Not this Harry, anyway.

Quit this jealousy crap, Draco. This Harry is still the one who would vanquish the Dark Lord, the savior of the wizarding world.

Like I could ever forget that, Draco scoffed.

"What do we do now, Draco?" Theo said, breaking the uncomfortable silence after Dobby's departure.

Draco hated the hopeful tone in his friend's voice, like he had all the answers to the world's questions. He knew nothing. He wasn't as smart as Hermione, nor as brave. He was better at hiding, skulking, and pretending he was something other than a coward.

Yet she believed in you. She trusted you to know what to do when things turn to shit like they did in your original timeline.

And like before, only Harry Potter could save them all.

With him lending a hand in the background, in the shadows where no one could see his own heroic deeds.

Heroic deeds? Who was he shitting? He didn't do anything. He only threw Harry his wand so he could kill Voldemort, the monster who destroyed his family. He did nothing but hand Harry a weapon.

Well, fuck! That's all he needed to do now, hand Harry a weapon.

And he knew where to get it.

"What do we do? We make sure Harry Potter gets all the fucking help he needs. But first, we must create a diversion. Are you two up for a bit of deception and sleight of hand?" Draco said, turning to Theo and Blaise.

"Always," his two best mates said, eyes blazing with eager mischief.

Neville woke up to excruciating pain. Not from his wounds, although he was sure he had many. He woke up on the other end of another's wand. Although he couldn't see, he recognized Amycus Carrow's modified Cruciatus curses. The pain wasn't exactly physical, as there would be no marks left on his body. But it was as intense, and as real. In his mind, at least. Amycus' form of torture was mental, making one believe that the punishment he was meting out were real. He designed it to break, even the most well-protected or battle-hardened mind, apart.

"That's enough, Amycus. You're not trying to kill the boy, are you? I'm sure the Dark Lord has better plans for him than turning him into a mindless imbecile."

Neville recognized the voice of the Hogwarts Headmaster. But since he couldn't even tell which way was up or down, he couldn't trust his judgment. What would the Headmaster be doing here anyway?

"Always sticking your oversized nose where you shouldn't, eh, Severus? Or are you still trying to protect your proteges? They're our slaves, nothing more."

"They're not mine, nor are they yours. They all belong to the Dark Lord and his cause. Or have you forgotten that, too? Would you like a refresher course?"

The pain was gone in an instant. The knifelike tentacles slicing his brain withdrew like tendrils of smoke. Neville slumped against the restraints holding him up. He didn't even know someone had chained him to a wall.

Relax, Longbottom. Everything's going to be fine. Just relax.

Neville heard the Head Master's voice loud and clear, but not in his ears but in his head. He didn't know Professor Snape could do that. It was a bit unnerving.

"Fuck you, Severus. I'll enjoy breaking you...one of these days."

"Oh, is that supposed to be a threat? Do you want me to show you what a real threat looks like?"

"Fuck you, Severus!" Amycus said before the sound of stomping feet and a slamming door echoed around the room.

"Don't you have anything more creative to say? That's right, go run to your sister. Tell her how the big bad wolf came huffing and puffing and scared little Amycus." Snape cackled until his bitter laughter wound down to a deep sigh.

Neville wanted to open his eyes, but Amycus had glued them shut.

"Finite," the Headmaster said.

Something cold washed over Neville, followed by extreme pain. Everywhere.

"Don't squirm, Longbottom. You'll make things worse. Amycus enjoys experimenting with his Cruciatus curses too much. Open your eyes so I can assess the damage," the Headmaster said.

He did as told, but everything was still pitch black.

"It's too dark, Headmaster. Are we in the dungeons?"

"It's only temporary blindness, Longbottom. Thank Merlin I got here in time to stop that stupid fool from inflicting more damage. For now, keep your eyes closed. They will recover in a few minutes, I'm sure. As for these wounds, well, I'll see what I can do."

"Where are we, Headmaster? Are we still in Hogwarts?"

The Headmaster whispered incantations that sent instant relief to Neville's aching body. But he didn't answer the question. Neville let it pass, focusing instead on willing his body and mind to recover.

At least he had the assurance that none of the Resistance members were with him here. He saw them all getting whisked away to safety by the house elves. Archie said the Headmaster instructed him to help the students. He should assure him that Archie did as told. Before he could say anything, though, the Headmaster spoke.

Don't say anything, especially about the Resistance. it's not safe.

The Headmaster was back inside his head. His ability to penetrate the mind both fascinated and frightened the hell out of Neville.

Only then did he realize they were no longer within the walls of Hogwarts. Or even if they were, Voldemort's people were nearby.

Shame and grief filled Neville's heart. He failed. He should not have let Amycus capture him. All the secrets of the Resistance were inside his head. What if Voldemort came and forced him to reveal everything he knew? His grandmother had taught him the basics of Occlumency. But against the likes of Voldemort, he had no way of defending himself. It might be better if he forgot everything.

Is that what you want? He might kill you if you can't offer anything useful to him. The Headmaster said, showing that their minds were still linked.

I'd rather die than tell him what I know, Neville thought.

Bravery. Your parents had it, too.

It warmed him, knowing he had something in common with his parents. All through his growing years, his gran had always expressed disappointment. She would often highlight the differences between him and his Auror parents. Especially his dad. He was a rising star in the Auror Department back then. Before Bellatrix Lestrange tortured him and turned his brain into mush. It was only later, when gran found out about the Resistance, that he heard her say she was proud of him.

Is there anything you can do to help me?

Silence met his question. But he could tell that the Headmaster pacing in front of him, as if weighing his options.

He would be suspicious if your memories are completely erased. But there might be something I can do to help you forget a few of them.

Please, do it, Headmaster.

It could mean your death...if the Dark Lord is not satisfied with what you can give him…if you're useless to him...

I don't care! Do it...please…

More pacing, as the Headmaster seemed to mull over his request.

Alright. Which of your memories are you willing to let go of?

Everything from the time we started the Resistance.

Everything? Including Luna?

The Headmaster's question surprised Neville. But then, considering the Professor's talents, he shouldn't be. The Hogwarts Headmaster could read minds. How difficult would it have been for him to discover his students' secrets?

Especially her...not everything about her...just her connection to me...

The mere thought of losing all the memories he shared with Luna was enough to break Neville's heart. Still, he had no choice; he needed to protect her. Voldemort would use her to make him talk and he couldn't let that happen.

Please, Professor. Help me. I can't stop the Dark Lord from invading my mind.

With a deep sigh, Professor Snape said, Erasing memories isn't painless, you know. This will hurt, Longbottom.

I know...but there's no other way around it…

After a beat, Neville felt the first stinging pain, like a knife slicing through his skull, . The intensity built up in stages until every brain cell seemed on fire. It was burning through the memories and all the things he had stored inside his head these past few months. Everything happened in a matter of seconds, but, to Neville, it was like an eternity. At the end, all Neville could feel was a deep sense of loss. It was as if someone had cut off one of his limbs or removed an important part of his anatomy. When he opened his eyes, Professor Snape was looking down at him, his face stern and inscrutable as always.

"How are you feeling, Longbottom?" he said.

Neville looked around, surprised to find himself chained to a brick wall.

"What happened, Professor? Where are we?"

"What do you remember? Think hard, Longbottom."

He tried to do what the Headmaster said, thinking as hard as he could, but his brain was sluggish and foggy. He remembered hearing explosions... and people throwing curses. Then, waking up to find Amycus Carrow using Cruciatus curses on him, but he couldn't remember why or how he got here.

"Nothing much, Professor. Aside from waking up to Amycus Carrows' cruciatus curses, everything's a bit foggy."

The Professor smirked and said, "I guess Amycus did a great job in messing up your brain. The Dark Lord won't like this new development. He was looking forward to meeting you, Longbottom."

Neville's heart skipped a beat.

"Why would the Dark Lord want to meet me? I'm nothing but a simple Hogwarts student. What in Merlin's beard would the Dark Lord want from me, Professor?"

"Are you sure you don't remember how you ended up on the other end of Amycus' wand? Were there others with you?"

"No, Professor. As far as I remember, I was alone when someone attacked me. After which, I woke up here, receiving Amycus' curses."

Professor Snape nodded, his face grim and unsmiling. "Let's hope that is enough to get you off the hook, Longbottom. Lately, however, I find that hope is an overrated commodity."

And with a swish of his cloak, the Headmaster swept out of he room. Leaving Neville confused and with a dismal feeling that he was in deep shit. And things were about to get worse.

"Something's up, James, I'm telling you," Angus said, flopping down on the bed beside his cousin. "All the elves are running around like headless chickens. They only get like that when they're doing Lucius' bidding."

"I didn't notice anything strange. They're hard workers, Angus," James said. His mind was on matters more important than the working habits of house elves. He still could not get over the fact that Hermione was a Gaunt descendant. He tried to squeeze more out of Meryll, but she clammed up and said she'd get in trouble if she revealed more. The Minister himself would tell them in due time what their results were, she said.

"Something's up with you, too. Don't think I didn't notice you staring into space and keeping to yourself more often than you used to."

"What are you talking about, Angus? You know I've never been as sociable as you. Besides, I'm not the only one acting morose as of late. We're all tired of staying cooped up in this gilded cage," James said.

Angus sighed and stretched his arms. "You have a point there. Even Dennis is not as perky anymore. But that might be because someone brainwashed Meryll into siding with the Dark Lord. And now he couldn't even talk to her."

Before James could reply, Dennis came crashing through the door, his face as pale as a turnip.

"Speak of the devil. What's up, Creevey? You look like the devil is at your coattails," Angus said with a chuckle.

"Hey, have you checked your pendants? Things had turned for the worse," Dennis said as he sat on the bed opposite the two cousins.

Both Angus and James sat bolt upright and pulled out their concealed pendants. After whispering the incantation Hermione taught them, the pendant began to glow. Their faces turned grim as they read the message scrolling across their pendants.

"Amycus got to the Resistance and took Neville? Well, the Hogwarts elves hid the others in the kitchens so that's a bit of good news," Angus said.

"Safe? They're still in Hogwarts. How can they be safe? Amycus can force them out of the kitchens, can't he?" Dennis asked.

"The Hogwarts kitchens are the elves' domain. No one can get in without their express permission. Heck, no one even knows its exact location. Not even the Headmaster. The house elves move it when someone discovers where they are. The others are safe for now. Wish I could say the same for us," James said.

"For now? What do you mean? Come on, James. There's something you're not telling us," Angus said, turning to his cousin.

James didn't know if it was time to reveal what he knew about the real reason why they were here. He had finally worked out Voldemort's plan and the part they're going to play in it. But Draco was right. He must take Angus into his confidence so they could plan their escape. The last time they talked, Draco gave him a map. He said it would take them out of the Manor, but they must use it as a last resort. Once they enter the tunnels, there would be no turning back.

Only someone with Malfoy blood could go through the tunnels. If not, the intruder would trigger the wards and alert Lucius.

"There's something I need to show you, but you must promise not to tell the others. Not yet, anyway," James said, pulling out from his pocket the piece of parchment Draco gave him.

"What is it?" Dennis said, peering at the blank page.

"Are you pranking us, cuz?" Angus said with a grin.

James took out his wand and muttered the incantation Draco taught him. Little by little, the parchment changed color, revealing its secrets.

"Whoa! This is a map, isn't it?" Dennis said.

"A map of what?" Angus said, pulling the parchment closer.

"Our road to freedom," James said, unable to hide a grin.

"You mean we can get out of here?"

"Yes, we can, Dennis. But not right away. We have to look for the right moment because once we go down this path, there's no turning back."

"What do you mean?" Angus said, returning the parchment to James.

James tapped the parchment with his wand to turn it blank before putting it back in his pocket. Draco told him to always keep it with him. Not only to ensure its safety, but also in case they get the chance to escape.

"Draco warned me that going down the tunnels, without a Malfoy, would trigger the wards," James said.

"Draco? As in Draco Malfoy? He gave you the map? And you believe it's safe to use? Are you sure we can trust him?" Angus said.

"The Headmaster trusts him. And he's not a very trusting man," James said with a smirk. And neither was he, but somehow, the Slytherin Prince had earned his trust. It could be because Draco, aside from giving his father the finger by helping them, had no other reason to do so. Yet he was taking risks for them.

"Well, since you put it that way," Angus said with a shrug.

James thought about the object Draco asked him to look for in the Minister's study. He wouldn't be able to look through all the books on his own. Draco said this object could save them all. Trusting Angus and Dennis, James decided to tell them about his mission for Draco.

"But first, we need to retrieve something for Draco. He said it could put an end to everything that's happening now," James said.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go get it," Dennis said, his enthusiasm reignited with the possibility of escaping.

"Yeah, cuz. Let's not dawdle and give Malfoy what he wants."

James sighed and shook his head, "It's not that simple. First, it's in his father's study," James paused when Angus and Dennis groaned in unison. "Second, I don't know exactly what it is."

"What? How are we supposed to get something if we don't know what it is?" protested Angus.

"All he said was that it was inside one of the books in his father's study. And that it's small and metallic, might even be a necklace with a pendant."

"That's not much to go on, cuz."

"I know, but we have to try. Anything that could put an end to this nightmare is worth looking for, don't you think?"

"Well, at least we know where to look," Dennis said.

"So, are you two willing to help?" James said.

Dennis and Angus glanced at each other before nodding.

"When do we start?" Both said at once.

James sighed in relief. He only prayed that they would find it before Hermione gets bound to the most evil wizard in the world.

"Hey, guys, the Minister is back. He wants to see us in the ballroom," Chris said as he walked into the room and sat beside Dennis. He looked more worried than usual. His face was gaunt and pale, and much too old for an eighteen-year-old.

In truth, this incarceration was changing them, aging them before their time. Even Angus had lost much of his baby fat, his face had become more angular and his body all lean muscle.

"What's wrong, Chris?" Angus said.

Chris sighed before turning wary eyes at the door. "I can't put a finger on it, but something big is in the works. It's like they're preparing for a major event. And it's not the usual Malfoy Yule Ball. Meryll wouldn't tell me, but I'm sure she knows something. Can't you try talking to her, Dennis?"

Dennis' face fell. He was not one to say 'No' to anyone, especially those he considered his superiors. But even he could no longer talk to Meryll like he used to. Sometimes he wasn't even sure if he was talking to Meryll or to the impostor James saw in the gardens. "I can try, but I doubt she'll talk to me or tell me anything useful."

Chris nodded as he got to his feet. "Well, we better get a move on. We don't want to keep his highness waiting, do we?"

Dennis gasped. "Chris, be careful with your words. The walls have ears," the young Gryffindor whispered in a strangled voice.

Chris laughed. It was bitter and devoid of humor. He leaned toward Dennis until their faces were mere inches apart. "And what would he do? Throw me in Azkaban? It would've been better if he did. At least they would leave me alone there instead of forcing me to train for the Dark Lord's army. If you ask me, I'd prefer to die a free man than one tethered to that evil incarnate. Give me back my wand and I'll take them all down. I'll die for sure, but if that's the price I have to pay for freedom, then so be it." And with that, Chris marched out the door without a backward glance. Leaving Dennis and Angus gawking at his retreating form.

Was it just him or did Chris sound like he was itching for a rebellion? James shuddered at the cold dread spreading through him.

"We need to look for that thing Draco wants. Tonight. Or we'll soon have a dead Hogwarts Prefect dangling from Malfoy's expensive chandelier. Chris is a formidable person, but he's starting to crack, and I bet the others aren't doing so well, either."

Training to become an instrument of destruction was taking a toll on them all. The Minister had dropped all pretense of training them to become ambassadors to the Muggle world. The spells they were teaching them now only had one goal: the enslavement of all non-magical folk. And no one prepared them for any of this. All they wanted was to learn how to harness their magic and perhaps do something good with it. Never in their wildest dreams had they thought they would become weapons. James was even more determined now to leave this place. He would never allow himself to be used against the Muggles, especially his parents.

"It's now or never. As soon as everyone's asleep, we'll break into the Minister's office and ransack it if we must."

"What about the guards? They're still around, or have you all forgotten about them?" Dennis said.

"Don't worry about it. I know what to do. We must focus on looking for what Draco wants."

"But, cuz, what if we don't find it?" Angus said, ignoring Dennis' horrified look.

"Then we use the map and get out of here as fast as we can."

There were a million things Hermione could wish for. But if she could have only one, she would wish for the time-turner Lucius Malfoy used to create this mess. For, brilliant as she was, Hermione could not think of a single thing she could do to get out of this hell hole. She was so desperate that suicide was getting more and more attractive by the minute. Yet, she knew that even if she tried, Tom would be there to prevent it. He would not let her go until he got what he wanted from her.

Tom left her room hours ago, yet his presence lingered like a malevolent spirit. She still couldn't shake the feeling of someone watching her. The phrase 'the walls have ears' was not metaphorical in this place. In fact, she should change it to: 'the walls have eyes and ears'. After what happened with the girl, Hermione was on edge. She couldn't help but look over her shoulder whenever her back was turned. Add to that the threat of Tom appearing any time he wanted and she was close to losing her mind.

Which wasn't good.

She needed her brain in prime working condition if she were to figure out how to kill Tom Riddle. Showing weakness was not an option. She must dig deep inside and find even a tiny bit of ruthlessness. A shred of evilness that would convince Tom she was his match.

Because his warning was clear: If she couldn't handle her role as his wife, he would take her magic and dispose of her.

After giving him an heir.

Which was by itself so gross on so many levels.

Still, she must push such thoughts to the back of her mind and concentrate on finding her dark side. Only then, could she hope to survive.

Ironic because when she gave herself up to Bellatrix, she had not planned on surviving. She tossed her trusty beaded bag even though it had her entire arsenal. She left her one connection to the Resistance, the crystal pendant, as well. But the hardest part was leaving her emerald ring behind. It was her only link to Draco and it was the most dangerous to keep. She left everything behind because she couldn't risk exposing her vulnerabilities. If she must die, only Voldemort would die with her. She would not lead him or his demented followers to the people she loved.

Funny how she was finding it more and more difficult to think of Tom as Voldemort. There was such a huge disconnect between the two, it was as if they were two different people. It wasn't only because he looked so unlike the snake-faced nemesis of Harry. That one was easier to hate. His very countenance screamed evil. Tom, with his handsome face, could charm his way into any unsuspecting heart. Yet there was something about Tom that sets him apart even more from the Voldemort she knew. She just couldn't put a finger to it. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that this Tom was more dangerous, more diabolical, than the one from their timeline.

"Pardon the intrusion, my Lady, but Lord Voldemort sent me to escort you to the dining room. He wants you to join him for dinner," a deep voice said, cutting through the silence.

An uncharacteristic fury erupted inside Hermione. She wanted to lash out at the unsuspecting messenger, to scream curses at him for disturbing the bubble she had built around herself. Especially since she wasn't ready to see Tom, yet. Not so soon. She could only take so much of his infernal presence for one day. And seeing him dispose of the girl like she was nothing but trash wasn't something she could forget so easily. Unfortunately, she didn't have the freedom of choice in this place. One misstep and she could find herself bound to Tom for life, or worse, pregnant with his heir. He did say that he would take whatever he needed by force if she proved too difficult to handle. His treatment of her depended on her attitude. Swallowing the bile in her throat, Hermione turned to face her escort, and with a stiff nod, followed him down the corridor.

They walked the hall in silence, but Hermione could tell that the man walking beside her was as on edge as she was. She didn't recognize him, so she surmised that he was a new recruit. He might not even be a Death Eater in their original timeline. She had pored over the files and pictures of known Death Eaters and this man's face didn't ring any bells. Could Tom's forces in this alternate reality be even bigger than Voldemort's before? If that was the case, then she sure hoped Dumbledore was able to recruit even more people into their cause. Because if not, then there's no hope for them. Tom would crush them like bugs underneath his boot. Finding Lucius' time-turner became even more imperative now. She prayed Draco would find it before things escalate any further.

To clear her mind of dangerous thoughts, Hermione turned to her silent companion and tried to engage him in small talk.

"My name's Hermione, by the way, not 'my lady'. You don't need to get so formal with me," she said, casting a sideways glance at the man to gauge his reaction.

The man didn't even look at her when he said, "I'm afraid I can't do that, my lady. Lord Voldemort ordered us to treat you with the respect you deserve as his future wife."

The way he emphasized 'my lady' grated on Hermione's nerves. "Oh, so if not for his order, you would not treat me with respect?"

The man's jaw twitched, as if holding back a retort. "I try to treat all women with respect, my lady. If they deserve it."

Hermione heard the message loud and clear. This man was not a big fan of Muggleborns. If not for Tom's order, he would not even give her the time of day.

So be it. When I come into power, you will be the first to suffer my wrath.

Hermione stopped in her tracks.

Where the hell did that come from?

This time, the man glanced back at her. His response made Hermione wonder what he saw when he looked at her. The man's face had turned white and there was genuine fear in his eyes. "I… b-beg your pardon, my lady, if I offended you. Please… f-forgive me," he stammered. Gone was the arrogance he barely hid earlier.

Strangely, the man's anxiety pleased Hermione. She never thought seeing a grown man, a ruthless Death Eater to boot, groveling like a house elf in front of her, could be so gratifying. It made her feel powerful.

Shit! What's wrong with you, Hermione? Have you gone mad?

Hermione mentally shook herself and walked past the man. Her thoughts disturbed and alarmed her. This place was corrupt, and its effect on her was frightening. Still, she must not let the man see that. She must not show weakness. Not here.

"Don't let it happen again," she said, mustering as much contempt as she could.

"Thank you, my lady. I promise to never offend you from now on," the stumped Death Eater said as he followed a step behind her.

What's happening to me? Is Tom doing something to me without my knowledge? Is he brainwashing me while I sleep? I need to get out of here. I don't care if I die in the process.

Before she knew it, her Death Eater escort was ushering her into the dining room. Hermione was too preoccupied with her thoughts of escape that she didn't notice Tom until he spoke.

"There you are, my dear. Come, take your seat beside me," Tom said, gesturing at the chair to his right.

Hermione, like an automaton, followed without question. Tom was smiling at her as she took her seat, clearly appreciating her obedience.

"You're looking exceptionally lovely, my dear. I hope you like what I had the servants prepare for us tonight."

She highly doubted it, but she held her tongue. No use antagonizing Tom right now. There was a lot she needed to think about and she couldn't afford to waste energy on futile endeavors. Tom's wicked smile told her he's taking her silence for submissiveness. Well and good. Let him think that if it would lull him into a sense of complacency. It would only make her escape easier.

Satisfied with her demure attitude, Tom turned away and clapped his hands to signal the servants to come. Three young men came in bearing trays of various mouth-watering entrees. Hermione hated how her stomach growled in response. Good thing Tom was giving instructions to one of his men and didn't notice. After the man exited, Tom leaned toward Hermione and took her hand.

"By the way, my sweet. I have a surprise for you. Call it an early wedding present if you like. I'm sure, this, if nothing else, you will love."

Hermione didn't like the way Tom's eyes glittered with undisguised malice. She found that when he's pleased, it's always at her detriment.

"Hermione, darling? Is that really you?"

A horrid chill washed over Hermione as she recognized the voice coming from the doorway. Slowly, she turned to look at the source, praying that she was wrong. Unfortunately, none of her prayers seemed to find answers in this place. Her heart broke into a million pieces when she saw her plans for escape melting before her eyes. For how could she even dream of leaving this place when the two people who meant the world to her were now at Tom Riddle's mercy?

"Isn't my wedding present just grand? Isn't it exactly what you want? Go on, my sweet, help them find their seats. I know how much you miss dear old mum and dad so I had them brought here. Besides, we can't have a proper wedding without their blessing now, can we?"

A/N: Thoughts, anyone? Violent reactions? Anything?