FINALLY! Finally my writer's block is gone. I can't tell you guys how hard this was to write or how many times I sat down to try and get it out of me. But I think I finally have it! Which means if I get enough reviews - which i totally don't deserve because I take so long to post - I might post again THIS WEEK. If you've stuck around with me this long, I love you. If you're just starting with me, I love you too. Let me know if you like it/don't like it, anything at all :)

Chapter 8

The growls abruptly cut off at a nearly imperceptible narrowing of the eyes from the Dark Lord. The silence was worse. It grew to a clamor in her ears and her terror grew. It seemed to go on endlessly. Her heart almost stopped as a smirk bloomed on the pale face before her.

"Ms. Granger, how nice of you to join us this morning. How interesting that you walk in here of your own will." Snickers broke out around the room. "Mr. Malfoy, I am impressed. This was far above the skill level I had seen in you. That you even knew such a spell…Perhaps I shall have further use of you yet." His eyes shifted over her form. She sucked in a quick breath and shut her eyes against the evil in front of her.

But his eyes were burned into the back of her eyelids. She couldn't escape them. Nor could she escape his voice as he decided her fate. The Dark Lord listened as his followers inserted their unimportant opinions. Mr. Malfoy wasn't so sure she could be trusted. Bellatrix Lestrange didn't think keeping her alive and using her was better than killing her and using her mangled body as a message. Avery was thinking they should lock her up and keep her for use later. The majority just smirked at her, and their faces were saying that they were looking forward to whatever torture was brought down on her slight frame. She knew each of them by their voices. She wasn't sure she could ever forget them after that awful night in the Department of Mysteries.

She thought back to that day and everything that had happened. So many of her friends had been in danger. They had lost Sirius. Back then she had looked them in the eyes. She had fought them. The smallest spark of defiance lit in her stomach. Hermione opened her eyes and looked around the room into the faces of her would-be executioners.

Suddenly everyone went silent. Her eyes shot to the white face at the head of the table. She hadn't seen the Dark Lord move, but he must have given some kind of signal. He had his wand held in his hand, rotating it slowly, eyes fixed on the grooves and crevasses. The movement was graceful, as though the wand were part of the man's body. He was made for this, she realized then. Every part of him exuded wizardry and magic. The Dark Lord may be evil and even half-blooded, but she could understand why he was viewed as the leader for magical purity. Comparing him to the awkwardness of first years that have come from non-magical families was impossible. Almost painful to envision.

The spinning wand stopped and the red eyes glided back to her. Something told her to lower her eyes. "Hermione Granger. You have been the brains behind Harry Potter for years now. I believe you are quite finished with your schooling. It is quite time you changed allegiances. We have uses for Mudbloods like you."

A low hiss followed that statement from the surrounding Death Eaters. She saw the shadow of his wand flicking again. Hermione jumped as someone screamed on the left side of the room. The hissing ceased immediately. "Of course we can't send you on any missions alone just yet. But just think of the damage it would do to the Order to see their precious princess not only has dropped out of school, but also is openly in attendance at our rallies. At our missions. They will hesitate to attack her. Their hesitation will kill them."

Tears filled Hermione's eyes. "I can't," she breathed.

She felt, more than saw, Draco tense beside her. The silence that followed her barely perceptible voice was palpable.

"Ah and her Gryffindor stupidity finally rears its ugly head. I had almost been disappointed. Repeat what you said for the room to hear Mudblood."

The amusement in the Dark Lord's voice was more terrifying than malice, but she forced herself to speak in as strong and steady a voice as she could muster. "I can't do that to them. I won't."

"You dare defy the Dark Lord! I will-"

"Bellatrix, silence. Ms. Granger, I believe you will find that we can be most persuasive if you disobey orders. Make no mistake, you will do as I say."

There were no arguments left to make. She knew that he wasn't bluffing. She knew she wasn't strong enough. All she had left was to pray that someone decided to save her. But even then, this curse had no end. She would be tortured for disobeying Draco. She would have to return just to survive. There was no way out unless the Order and Harry won and killed everyone within this room. There was a sharp stab in her abdomen. Unexpected and piercing. Further reminder that this curse would destroy her for plotting against her captor.

An eternity later the talks began to subside. An attack was planned in one week's time. Until then she was to be kept in Malfoy Manor – much to Lucius's scarcely masked dismay, though of course all of the necessary "It would be my honor to serve you My Lord" niceties filled the air. And so she found herself being escorted down three hallways, up four flights of stairs, down two more hallways and into the smallest, bleakest bedroom the family could muster. Which meant of course that the bedroom was twice the size of her Gryffindor dormitory with finer bed sheets than she had ever seen in her life and a bathroom fit for kings.

Really the only sign that this was her prison were the various spells lain by Lucius Malfoy himself to prevent her from committing suicide – though as he muttered, "The world would rejoice one fewer Mudblood befouling the air and breeding halfblood mongrels." With a few flicks of his wand bars were installed over the windows, the mobile furniture became immobile, and from what she gathered, the bathroom was set to sound an alarm if she stopped moving for some set amount of time to alert someone if she were to drown herself. It all was intriguing to her, as suicide hadn't even crossed her mind as a viable escape option.

It was also a bit impressive. It showed first-hand how committed the Death Eaters were. Here was a notorious hater of all things Mudblood trying to come up with every way to ensure that a Mudblood would stay alive. Nothing was allowed to interrupt their plans. They tried to determine every possible thing that could go wrong and prevent it. It was so organized. So calculated. So perfect. Everything that Hermione sought in life and everything the Order of the Phoenix was not. How could her friends defeat this well-oiled machine of murderers and sadists? Maybe they weren't meant to.