Summary: This was originally the prologue to a chapter fanfiction I was going to do called Draconian. It is set after the Battle of Hogwarts — Voldemort has won the war, and Harry and Ron are dead. Hermione is struggling in a world where muggleborns are no longer welcomed nor allowed. When she is captured and put in an infernum (a prison), Draco Malfoy comes to her aid and saves her. REVIEW if you think that I should continue!
Rating: M, because I think that the entire story will be M.
Draconian means "excessively harsh or severe".
Dearest,
There is no doubt in anyone's mind. The War had been a failure. A tragedy. A defeat.
Some people believed that good would always triumph evil, that the good side would win simply because it was good. But that is not true. Just because good is good didn't prevent Voldemort from winning when he was more powerful than Harry.
Harry had lost. It was a fact as simple as day turning into night, or a seed sprouting into a flower. But with evil's victory came a time of pain and suffering.
If caught, muggleborns are forced into torture sites called infernums. Any people associated with them go to Azkaban. Many people reading this may think that Azkaban is worse than infernums, but they are wrong.
Infernums are hell put on earth. Feeders, death eaters chosen to regulate the infernums, inflict pain on muggleborns for their own pleasure. The muggleborns become enslaved to any death eater who wants them; the rest are tortured for not being good enough.
I am lucky not to have been caught yet. But I am putting Ginny and her children in danger. Oh, Ron, if only you and Harry were alive now. You two make everything easier.
I am leaving the apartment tomorrow. I cannot keep putting the people I love in harm's way just because I am too afraid to brave the world and accept that I no longer welcome.
Remember that I love you.
Hermione
Hermione let go of the breath she had been holding in for who-knows-how long. The steady grip on her muggle pen faltered and it fell, breaking as it hit the concrete floor. She felt a single tear wet her cheek and she sank back onto her bed, hugging the letter close to her chest.
"Hermione? Do you want to come with Albus and I to get some more bread?" Hermione hastily wiped away her tears and hid the paper under the sheets. Straightening her clothes, she threw open the door and drew Ginny Potter into her warm embrace.
Ginny's wedding ring glinted against the soft candle light as they came apart and she put her hands on her hips, saying, "What was that for?"
Hermione shrugged. "Can't a girl hug her best friend?"
"Of course," she said, putting her hand on Hermione's arm comfortingly. "But you didn't answer my question."
"Yes, I'll come with you," she sighed.
"Goodie!" She cried, throwing her hands into the air in fake exaggeration. "I'll just grab James and bundle up Albus, and we can take a family trip!"
Hermione shook her head as her friend forced James' shoes on. Just a fleeting smile is something that she never got to experience anymore. No one did. It was just part of the new world.
Hermione looked over to where Albus was peacefully playing with his two wooden blocks, and then to where James was screaming in Ginny's lap. "Maybe we shouldn't bring them."
Ginny looked up from her task and frowned. "You know that the only way to get enough food for four people is to bring four people, Hermione. It's been like that since the War."
Hermione chanced another look at Albus and said, "What if something goes wrong?"
"It won't. Come on, Albus, let's go for a walk."
The line stretched almost three blocks, and Hermione grabbed Albus' hand as they inched towards the tent. "I wish we still had our wands," she muttered into Ginny's ear as they took another step forward.
"Well, that's the price we paid for being on the losing side." The losing side. Hermione had never thought of herself as a loser. But everyone who had once believed in Harry Potter was now a loser.
A fight broke out to their left and another to their right, but they ignored both as they stepped inside to see a death eater holding a roster, illuminated by the only light source in the room: his wand.
The first thing Hermione noticed about him were his eyes. They were bright against the darkness of his mask, yet dulled from loss of hope. She was sure that she had seen them before; that somewhere, in a distant memory, she could remember this person. But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing does.
"Names?" He asked almost monotonously.
"Lavender Brown," Hermione said, the lie slipping off her tongue easily. She choked a bit on the remembrance of their deceased housemate and glanced down at Albus. He smiled up at her like she was some great hero. Would he love her so much if he knew how much she lied and stole? No. She tugged her hood closer to her face and clutched his hand tighter in hers. "Pureblood."
The man glanced down at his paper, used his wand to write his signature next to Lavender's name, and turned to Ginny. "Hannah Abbott, halfblood," she narrowed her eyes at him, baiting him to say that she wasn't.
"And the children?"
"My sons," Ginny said protectively, drawing James closer.
The death eater eyed them for a moment before pulling his mask off. Hermione gasped as she caught a glimpse of his face, and those damn all-to-familiar eyes.
"Hermione Granger," Draco Malfoy's face looked like it was contorted into a mixture of different emotions: pain, misery, fury, and something else. "Run."
