Disclaimer in chapter one

A/N: oh boy, oh boy, after last chapter, I see many of you don't like Tom that much anymore. Yeah, I can't blame you. We should really start shipping Hermione with someone safer… then again Tomione is just too much fun to write hehehe It's too late to stop now. Wheeee!

Okay, this chapter focuses mostly on Hermione. Because there's a lot going on with her now. After all, her whole world has been turned upside down. Thanks for that, Tom T_T

For all you history nerds ^^ The poem at the end of this chapter is an old magic spell that was found in Merseburg, Germany. It's pre-Christian and rooted in the old pagan belief system. The last two lines represent the actual spell which was supposed to free prisoners. So, I thought, maybe Hermione needs a charm like that ;)

Many, many thanks to all you reviewers out there. I can't say it enough: This is what keeps fanfic going. I'm stupidly happy whenever I get a review ＼(^o^)／

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Chapter Twenty Nine: Fetters

Hermione didn't know what was going to happen to her. Like a thick blanket, fear had wrapped around her and she felt unable to comprehend her situation. She sat in that small chamber for hours, alone with her dark thoughts.

"Hermione?" a voice startled her from her misery.

Slowly, Hermione raised her face. McGonagall had returned to the temporary prison cell. Hermione hastily scrambled up and bowed to the witch. An uncomfortable look flittered over the professor's face, but she didn't comment.

"Follow me."

A flush of panic hit Hermione hard. Was that it now? Was McGonagall to be the one to hand her over to the Snatchers? Her body started to tremble as Hermione obediently stumbled over to the witch. McGonagall put a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder, steering her out of the chamber. Hermione barely saw where she was going. Hogwarts' corridors looked darker and colder than she had ever seen them, like a black veil had been thrown over everything. Her knees shook as she followed McGonagall to what could only be her execution. They reached a narrow staircase and descended deeper into the castle. Hermione's mind didn't want to stop supplying her with images of what the Snatchers would do to her.

"Dippet didn't alert the authorities," McGonagall's calm voice stated.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes wide with confusion, she stared at the witch. For a moment, she forgot her status and dared to ask,

"What?"

McGonagall sent her a weak smile. "The Headmaster wants to keep this quiet. So I suggested we'd let you stay at Hogwarts for the time being." Sadness swam in the professor's eyes as she added, "Dippet agreed, but he won't allow you to be a student anymore. You'll have to work at Hogwarts from now on."

Hermione's voice was shaky as she asked, "You want me to work here?"

"I'm very sorry, Hermione," McGonagall replied solemnly. "I'm afraid that's all I could do for you."

Hermione stared at the witch with wide eyes and a shaky breath of air left her. McGonagall had saved her life, hadn't she? Quickly, Hermione bowed to the woman and whispered a grateful,

"Thank you."

Still shaken by this development she peered up at McGonagall and asked timidly, "But what about the Snatchers?"

"They won't be called," the professor explained. "At least not by Hogwarts' staff. I can't promise that nothing will leak outside, though."

They entered a rather small corridor. It lacked all the paintings and tapestries Hogwarts' corridors usually displayed, but was quite bare. The undressed stone floor was uneven and polished with use. McGonagall stopped in front of a large wooden door. For a moment, her gaze rested heavily on Hermione, making her shuffle nervously. The usual sternness was absent in the professor's eyes, though. McGonagall cleared her throat, then she said softly,

"Hermione, you have been one of the best students I ever had the fortune to teach. You don't deserve this."

Hermione's stomach balled into a painful knot and she felt unable to reply anything. McGonagall sent her a sad smile.

"I don't know what has been going on between you and Tom Riddle. Mr Riddle is a student of mine, so I don't like speaking ill…" The professor hesitated shortly. Then she added in a serious tone, "You need to think about yourself now. Don't trust him. Never again."

Hermione nodded and replied in a small voice, "I know. Now I do."

McGonagall's hand tightened comfortingly on her shoulder. "Good luck."

Then she opened the door for Hermione. Reluctantly, Hermione stepped into the room behind and was instantly hit with loud clatter and the smell of food being made. The room was rather large, equipped with several workstations. Just a few steps away, a woman, dressed in the same grey tunic that Hermione wore, was busy frying a huge amount of bacon in a large pan. At another workstation, a man and a young girl cut loaves of bread into slices and arranged them on plates.

Shyly, Hermione walked further into what could only be Hogwarts' kitchen. She felt lost in the hustle and bustle of quite a number of Mudbloods as they prepared what was probably supposed to be the students' breakfast. Some of the Mudbloods had already noticed her presence and scanned her with blatant curiosity. Hermione nervously worried her lower lip.

"You must be Penny?" a voice leaked through her panic.

She whirled around. A middle-aged, rather short man had walked up to her. His brown hair was grey at the sides and mussed up by the steam in the kitchen. Hermione noticed how he wore a grey shirt with short sleeves. Her gaze quickly dropped to the Dark Mark tattooed into his skin. She shuddered and nervously fiddled with the fabric of her grey dress. Seeing her distress, the man smiled comfortingly.

"There's no need to be afraid," he soothed.

Hermione peered at him diffidently. The man still smiled at her and laugh lines creased the skin around his eyes.

"Welcome," the man said cheerfully. "It's good to have you. My name is Dobby."

Hermione tried to return the smile, but only managed a shaky grimace. "N- nice to meet you."

"Master told me you're to work with us."

Hermione looked at him, a hollow feeling creeping up on her. The master… Was that Dippet now?

"Yes," Hermione mumbled softly. "I'm supposed to stay here?"

"Yes, yes. That's what Master said." Dobby nodded immediately, still smiling. "Come, I'll show you where you can stay. Take a rest. I'm sure you need it. Breakfast is almost finished anyway. We don't need your help right now."

Hermione whispered a grateful, "Thank you."

Dobby led her through the kitchen. She kept her head bent, but still felt the eyes of the other Mudbloods on her. Her hands shook, so she curled them into fists, fingernails biting into her skin. Dobby manoeuvred her towards a small side door and into an adjacent room. It was dark and stuffy inside, probably due to the lack of any windows. Cots were crammed into the room so there was almost no place to walk. Dobby deftly wound through the maze of cots, Hermione hot on his heels, until he stopped in front of one.

"You can sleep here," he told Hermione amicably.

Hermione nodded timidly, gaze wandering over the thin mattress and blanket.

"We're a bit tight on space," Dobby said apologetically. "So we have to work and sleep in shifts. You'll share this cot with Ida. She's a cook maid." He rubbed a soothing hand over Hermione's shoulder. "Don't worry. Hogwarts is a good place. We always have enough food and we more or less work independently. If you ever have a problem with anything, you come to me. Okay?"

"Yes."

"Good," Dobby hummed. "Now get a bit of a rest. I'll send Winky to fetch you later. She'd be really thankful if you could help her with the laundry."

"Yes," Hermione replied insecurely.

"Oh, and here," Dobby said and offered her something wrapped in a piece of cloth. "I thought you might be hungry."

Hermione's lip wobbled slightly as she looked down at a slice of bread and a piece of cheese. "Thank you."

"No problem," Dobby said kindly. "Now, you take your time."

Then he left her to her own devices. Hermione weakly sank down on the cot. She wasn't really hungry, but she still forced herself to eat. She knew from her experience at Malfoy manor that she would soon need the energy. The bread tasted like ash in her mouth and she could barely swallow it.

As she was finished, Hermione remained to sit on the small cot in the stuffy room and vacantly stared into space. There were tears brimming in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Crying had never helped her anyway. Reluctantly, her gaze wandered down to her left forearm. She flinched as she stared down at her Dark Mark. The skin around the black lines was still reddened and cut open at places, an aftermath of Tom's anger.

A bruise wound around her wrist where he had grabbed her. Hermione stared down at the sullied skin and a handsome pale face with calm blue eyes danced through her mind. Tom. She could see him. Tom. Tom how he smiled at her softly. Tom as he held her in his arms and she felt secure. He was so close she could smell his pleasant scent, feel the warmth of his body. Tom that powerful wizard who protected her, his magic like a shield around her. An easy smile on his lips, he led her away and into brightness.

Hermione couldn't breathe. It hurt. Tom. What he'd done... there was no coming back from. He'd destroyed her. He'd mercilessly cut her down, knowing full well that his actions might cause her death. Hermione swallowed down her tears and instead shut her eyes, sucking in a steadying breath of air. It was time to push Tom away. The wizard who had saved her and protected her had never been more than a mirage.

Her eyes shot open as she felt someone flopping down beside her. A girl, not much older than herself, lounged on the cot. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and a dirty grey scarf was wrapped around her head. The girl eyed Hermione, not even trying to be inconspicuous. Then she raised her eyebrows and asked,

"So, yas the new one?"

Hermione nodded in reply, nervously twisting her hands in her lab. The girl nodded but continued to scan Hermione. Then she extended a hand and said,

"I'm Mina."

Cautiously, Hermione shook the offered hand. "Penny."

Mina pursed her lips, still studying Hermione like a new curiosity in the zoo. Finally she allowed,

"We hev been talkin about yee. Yee were one of them, wasn't yee?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat and she whispered tonelessly, "I… Did you hear that?"

"Wey aye," Mina chattered easily. "Yee were geet posh like them. Complete wi' uniform an' whatnot."

The girl still ogled Hermione, either not noticing or caring how it made Hermione uncomfortable. Her gaze wandered over Hermione's dress, taking in the ragged fabric, and stopped at the bushy locks. Then Mina shrugged her shoulders and said,

"Nowt lasts forevor."

There really was nothing for Hermione to add, so she remained to be silent. Mina got up from the bed and said,

"I hev to go back. Ta'ra, mate."

†

Tom lay in his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He had already missed breakfast and Charms would start soon, but he just couldn't get up. A strange exhaustion had taken hold of his whole body. He had slept deeply without any dreams visiting him. And yet he woke up and felt exhausted.

Tom let his arm fall to the side, feeling the empty mattress under the tips of his fingers. His rash acts from yesterday swirled through his head. It never was a good idea to let one's emotions govern one's actions. Luckily, Tom had been able to wriggle out of the predicament. As always, Dippet had bought his lies. It hadn't even been that difficult to convince him. The Headmaster would never suspect his favourite student of any wrong-doings. Of course the trustworthy Head Boy had had no idea that Hermione Rookwood really was a Mudblood in disguise. Tom Riddle remained to be innocent… at least in Dippet's eyes.

Tom sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He was so tired, he would skip Charms. Maybe Dippet believed him, but McGonagall didn't. A lot of the students probably didn't either. Hermione had been his girlfriend. What were the chances that he'd never seen her forearms uncovered? There was suspicion, suspicion flying around him. It had stuck to him the same way when he'd killed the Longbottom boy. People had wondered, had voiced their doubts behind closed doors, had regarded him warily, fearfully.

And yet…

And yet, no-one had been able to prove his guilt. Tom knew this would blow over as well. The suspicion would stick to him, but it wouldn't be enough. Having Hermione pose as a Pureblood might have been a risky decision, but Tom had planned for the eventuality of her exposure from day one. He knew how to beguile the right people and he knew which ones to threaten into silence. Sure, the situation was complicated by the fact that Lupin knew the depth of Tom's involvement, but he had an appropriate response for that as well. There was no room for mistakes, but as long as Tom was careful no-one could touch him.

Tom threw an arm over his eyes, blocking out all light. The darkness was soothing. The painfully empty room disappeared. His actions yesterday had been a kneejerk reaction – so much he could admit – but Hermione had deserved everything she got. Her betrayal had taken Tom by surprise. He berated himself that he had let her get so close in the first place. If he'd been more observant, he would have been able to see through her treachery before it had been too late. Still, he was on top of this. He was safe. He would get away with it.

Then why…? Why did he feel so odd? Like something was looming over him?

Tom had no idea how to fix it. The situation didn't need fixing anymore. He had fixed it yesterday. Everything was back on track. The loss of Slytherin's Locket was a set-back, but it wasn't fatal to his plans. He could do this. He was in control.

Tom groaned softly. He could still see her face. There was pain and betrayal. Fear …and disgust. Maybe it was hate. He wasn't sure. It wasn't like he could ask her anymore. Briefly, Tom wondered where Hermione now was. As soon as the thought touched his mind, he hastily pushed it away. He didn't really want to think about it.

He rolled over on his side and curled up, pressing his face into the pillow as if to hide. He felt abandoned, alone, and the sense of impending doom kept torturing him.

†

Feeling numb, Hermione folded the freshly laundered uniforms and sorted them into stacks. Each time she came upon a Gryffindor emblem or the red and gold colours, her stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. Her eyes tickled traitorously, but Hermione stubbornly kept the tears in. Her eyes were probably red, though, and she was glad that in the damp, steamy laundry room no-one would be able to see it.

"Are those finished?" a plump woman with a harried air floating around her asked.

Hermione nodded. The woman, Winky as Hermione had learned, hastily sorted the folded uniforms into baskets and complained, stressed tinge to her voice,

"I'm already late with these. The clothes those folks use each day, you have no idea, Penny."

Winky balanced one basket under each arm and said, "I have a washtub of bedclothes over there that needs to be mangled. Can you get to that?"

"Of course," Hermione replied softly.

Winky sent her a grateful smile before she rushed off. Hermione sighed softly as she walked over to the tub. She already felt incredibly tired and her workday wasn't even half over yet. Laundry duty was always hard work. Sullenly, Hermione looked at the mountains of bedclothes. At least, she wasn't supposed to do this completely without magic. Reluctantly, she pulled the bright red wand from her pocket that Dobby had given her. The stick of wood felt painfully hollow in her hand and Hermione knew it would only allow her to cast the most simple of spells.

Feeling slightly sick, she waved the wand at the bedclothes. Her magic slowly wobbled through the wood and sluggishly formed into a spell. One of the bed sheets floated into the air, stretched itself out and then slipped into the clothes wringer. Hermione put the hated pseudo-wand away and started to turn the wheel of the wringer. Soon sweat was running down her forehead. This wasn't made any easier by the knowledge that had she been allowed her old chestnut wand, she'd been finished in half the time.

A feeling of desolation and hopelessness had taken a hold of Hermione as she put what felt like the hundredth bed sheet into the wringer. The walls of the laundry room seemed to press in on her and she could barely breathe. Hermione wondered if Sirius might be able to help her get out of this situation. For her Hogwarts was not a safe haven anymore. It was only a matter of time until her story would leak. Then she would be taken away by the Snatchers …or Umbridge. Hermione shuddered fearfully.

Her already slightly blistered hands tightened around the wheel of the clothes wringer as traitorous doubts seeped into her thoughts. Even if she managed to reach Sirius, why would the leader of the Order of the Phoenix care about her? She had mucked things up and expected him to swoop in and save her? Why should he?

Sirius always wanted to help, a soft voice tentatively pointed out.

Hermione pressed her eyes shut and ran a hand through her curly hair. Yes, that was what Sirius had said, just like Tom had promised to never give her away. Now she was exposed, a liability. Who was to say that Sirius wouldn't drop her as well?

Hermione breathed in deeply and continued to furiously turn the wheel of the wringer. Fear clouded her mind. She didn't really know Sirius. She'd seen him what? Twice? Tom had been a lot closer to her and she still hadn't been able to see through his lies. What if Sirius wanted to use her as well and then she'd be left in an even worse situation.

Her thoughts cautiously drifted away from the Order and towards a certain werewolf. She could trust Lupin at least, couldn't she? Hermione's stomach knotted unpleasantly. She just wasn't sure anymore. Of anything. Maybe it was best to wait before she acted hastily. Surely, Lupin would return from his mission soon; then she'd talk with him.

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It was Friday and the second day of Hermione working as a Mudblood at Hogwarts. She was already exhausted from the hard work, her body hurting dully, and she was constantly tired. The only upside that she could see was that working in the laundry room kept her hidden away from the students' eyes. Panic clouded her mind whenever she thought of meeting any of her old peers. There was no way she could face them now that they knew what she really was.

"Penny?"

Hermione looked up from her work of carefully ironing a pair of trousers. Dobby had found her. There was a small, almost apologetic, smile on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But could you go up to the Great Hall? We need more hands to help with the feast preparations."

Hermione felt something squeeze around her heart. She'd completely forgotten that Beltaine would be celebrated tomorrow. She swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the tight feeling around her throat. She'd planned to attend the ball with Tom.

"Yes, of course," she whispered in a subdued voice.

"Thanks, Penny," Dobby said, looking quite relieved. "You're an angel."

Sliding the hated red wand in her pocket, Hermione mumbled, "I doubt that."

Dobby wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and told her softly "I promise, it's gonna get better."

Quickly, Hermione left the laundry room and hurried through the hidden pathways and secret passages. As she had been a student, she had had no idea that there was a whole network of passageways hidden from sight. Bending low, Hermione pressed herself through a rather narrow and dark passage. The stone walls were rough and undressed, the floor uneven and showed puddles of water at places. It was a far cry from the wide and well-lit corridors Hogwarts' students used. Still, Hermione was glad she could use these pathways. She was terrified of meeting any of the students or professors.

Hermione gasped softly as she almost ran into a flight of stairs she hadn't seen in the twilight. Her hand slid along the damp wall for support as she ascended, careful not to trip over a slanted step. As she reached the Great Hall, she breathed out a sigh of relief. There was no student to be seen. Only Mudbloods occupied the hall. They had already pushed away the four large house tables to create more space and were now busy arranging feast decorations and putting up a small stage for the band.

"Hey, you're Penny, aren't you?" one of the Mudbloods called her.

Hermione nodded and quickly scurried over to him. The man stood on a ladder and carefully attached colourful garlands to the wall. He grinned down at her and said,

"You can help me."

"Yes," she said dutifully and already reached for another garland to hand it to him.

†

A few hours later and the Great Hall was almost unrecognizable. The floor was brightly polished while smaller round tables had replaced the large house tables and were adorned with white tablecloths and beautiful ribbons. More ribbons and garlands decorated the walls and playfully spanned over the ceiling. The middle of the hall was kept free, creating a dance floor. The stage was completed and only waited for the musicians to play a catchy tune for the party guests.

Hermione stood by the doors and her jaded eyes longingly wandered over the festive room. Wan look on her face, she let her eyes travel over the decorations. A feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed her in face of the beautiful room. Self-consciously, Hermione brushed down her grey dress. She only managed to make it even more dirty with the grease she had smeared all over her hands while helping to set up the scaffolding for the stage.

"Hey, Penny," Pete, one of the Mudbloods, called her. "We're almost finished. If you want, you can take a break."

Hermione threw him a meek smile. "Thank you."

Silently, she slipped out of the Great Hall. The entrance to one of the side passageways wasn't far away. Keeping her head down, she quickly scurried towards the hidden door. This time, though, her luck ran out. Before Hermione could reach the door, she ran into a group of Slytherins. Instantly, she recognized the faces: Dolohov, Goyle and Draco Malfoy. Instantly, Hermione froze, rooted to the floor, and fearfully stared at the three Slytherins. An evil smirk appeared on Dolohov's face as he recognized her.

"Oh, look at that. It's the little Mudblood." He tugged at Hermione's dress and asked in mock concern, "What happened to your school uniform?"

Hermione didn't say anything, but stared down at the floor. The only thing she could hear was the cruel laughter of the Slytherins and her own blood rushing in her ears.

"Answer him," Goyle prodded gruffly.

Without ever looking up, Hermione mumbled, "I'm not a student anymore, Master Dolohov."

Her admission was greeted with more laughter and nasty sneers. Hermione shuffled nervously, fighting the need to run away. Through the corners of her eyes she could see Draco watching her. Grey eyes glinting in a baleful light, the Slytherin fixed Hermione with a stare. He hadn't said anything yet, but it was painfully obvious that he knew exactly who she was. Hermione felt her heart hammering away in her chest, driven by fear.

"Merlin, this is hilarious," Dolohov snorted. "A Mudblood dressed up like a real person. If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have believed it possible."

Grinning sharply, he took a threatening step towards Hermione. She wanted to shy away from him, but knew better than to try to get away. Dolohov grabbed a handful of her curly hair and painfully forced her head back so she had to look at him. Hermione whimpered softly and fearfully blinked up at him. A vile smirk played around Dolohov's mouth as he sneered down at her. His voice was soft, but laced by a vicious undercurrent as he said,

"Tell me, was it fun smearing your filth all over this noble school?"

Hermione's whole body trembled and her scalp hurt where he brutally pulled at her hair. She didn't know what to do and only managed a pathetic,

"I'm sorry."

Dolohov laughed nastily and released his tight grip on her. Hermione stumbled back. Her head and neck hurt now, but she didn't dare rub her aching skin. Again she stood in front of the three Slytherins and bowed to them.

"If you were mine," Dolohov hissed at her hatefully. "I would curse you within an inch of life."

Hermione's eyes widened anxiously and she bowed even deeper. It was Goyle who remarked ruthlessly,

"I don't think anyone would complain if you did."

A contemplative look appeared on Dolohov's face and Hermione's blood turned icy-cold with dread. In the end, though, Dolohov didn't pull his wand.

"No," he decided callously. "I don't want to take that pleasure away from her Master."

Hermione shuddered at the last word.

"Well, I'm not sure Riddle is really that displeased with her," Draco's silky voice suggested.

An almost fearful look crossed Dolohov's face. Quickly he turned his head to check if anyone was near-by. Then he glared at Draco.

"I think you should keep your big mouth shut."

Draco remained to be unimpressed by the other's anger and replied smoothly, "Come on, we all know he was behind this. No-way a stupid Mudblood could have pulled this off without help."

Dolohov looked at Draco for a moment as if he thought the other had lost his mind. Then he shook his head and disdainfully informed, "You know what? One of these days, Riddle's gonna kill you. And I'll be there in a front seat cheering him on."

Quickly, the two Slytherins descended into an argument. Hermione still awkwardly had her head bent and wondered if she should dare make a run for it. Before she came to a decision, a gentle hand fell on her shoulder and a voice whispered to her,

"Come."

Not daring to look up, she felt herself being led away. Her whole body still trembled heavily. They entered a smaller corridor and left the arguing Slytherins behind.

"Hermione?" the soft voice spoke again.

She bit the inner side of her cheek hard as she heard her true name. Tears that she couldn't allow to fall clung to her eyes as she looked up. Regulus Black stood before her.

"Are you alright?"

He scanned her worriedly. Hermione could only nod. A thin smile curled Regulus' lips and he breathed out in relief.

"I'm glad." He sighed, still eyeing her in concern. "I was so scared when they dragged you from the Great Hall yesterday. I thought you'll get… That they'll…"

He swallowed thickly. Hermione threw him a small smile and whispered, "So did I."

"Are you working at Hogwarts now?" Regulus questioned cautiously.

"Yes," Hermione admitted reluctantly. "McGonagall made Dippet keep me."

"Well…" Regulus ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Still better than the alternative."

The Slytherin breathed in deeply while his gaze raked over Hermione. She shuddered as she saw the guilt on his face.

"If only I had known sooner…" Regulus sighed.

Hermione looked at him in confusion. "Known what?"

The Slytherin sent her an awkward smile. "If I'd known what you are, I wouldn't have sent you the letter. That started it all, didn't it? Your argument with Riddle."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Y- you…? The letter from RAB… That was you?!"

Regulus laughed softly. "Regulus Arcturus Black."

"I- I didn't know," stammered Hermione.

He grinned at her. "No-one knows my middle name around here." The mischievous glint drained from his eyes and he added sadly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I sent you that letter. It's all my fault."

Hermione shook her head. "No. No, it's not. Tom did that to me not you."

"That bastard," Regulus cursed under his breath. "It's despicable. How could he just give you away like that?"

"I should have expected it," she whispered in a dull tone. "Everyone warned me about him."

"He's a good liar," was Regulus' reply as he smiled at her faintly. "And he's got exactly what he wants. No-one can stop him now."

"We can still stop him," Hermione insisted. "He hasn't yet managed to get all the Founders' objects. We'll find them and he can't turn them into Horcruxes."

"Hermione," the Slytherin replied awkwardly. "Don't you think you have other problems now?"

Hermione exhaled shakily. He was right, but she really didn't want to face her own terrible situation.

"We'll stop him," she repeated, desperation lacing her tone. "We have to."

"There's nothing we can do," Regulus sighed tiredly. "I tried to stop him, but he's too powerful. That's why I wrote you. I thought, you might be able to-" He stopped and shook his head in defeat.

"Regulus." Hermione gazed up at him, serious look on her face. "He is going to murder someone. I know about Neville. Tom's gonna do it again."

Regulus laughed mirthlessly, the sound echoing harshly from the walls. "There's nothing I can do. You were my last hope."

His eyes wandered over her, taking in her dirty dress and the Dark Mark on her forearm. Regulus bit his lip and forced a weak smile on his face.

"It's over," he told her softly. "You have to let it go."

Squaring her shoulders, she decided firmly, "No. I won't let him get away with this."

If she did, there would be nothing left. If she gave up fighting, she might as well be dead. The artificial smile still hung from Regulus' lips and he gently shook his head. "You can't stop him. Not like this."

Uncomfortably, Hermione tugged at the coarse fabric of her dress. Was that really it? Had she returned to nothing? Invisible, powerless. Once again, worth nothing. Seeing the pain welling up in her eyes, Regulus stepped closer to her and gingerly rubbed a hand over her arm.

"Don't be sad. It's not your fault."

Hermione felt something brutally clenching around her heart. Her lower lip trembled traitorously and she bit it hard.

"Why does it matter so much?" she spat a question that yet no-one had been able to answer. "That I'm a Mudblood. Always, it's that. I'm not useless."

"Of course not," Regulus soothed gingerly.

He grasped her by the shoulders. Hermione didn't know what to think as he tried to reason with her, "But in your position, there's nothing you can do. There is no way you can stop Riddle. Don't fight him. He'll only hurt you even more."

Regulus smiled sadly and looked at her as if she was some kind of broken good. "You have talent. So much talent. This is not about you being weak… There's just nothing to be done, Hermione."

Hermione felt an ice-cold darkness mercilessly wrap around her, stifling everything. She couldn't breathe as she stared at Regulus with dead eyes. He had abandoned all hope, hadn't he? She'd known her situation was dire, but if there really was no way out, what was the point anymore? Regulus saw the pain pooling in her eyes. Pity appeared on his face and he quickly wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

"Don't cry. It's not your fault. You did your best."

Regulus' embrace and the pity hurt. In a twisted way, this was even worse than having to face Tom's disdain and hate. Regulus didn't believe in her at all. Was there really no hope for her? Hermione shuddered, but forced herself to hold back the sobs that wanted to break from her. Finally Regulus released her from that affectionate, terrible embrace.

"Don't worry about Riddle anymore," he told her gently. "He's not your problem. It's fine, really." He shook his head. "I don't even want to imagine how it must have felt for you to be forced to act as a Pureblood. Riddle is a cruel bastard for putting you through all that."

"It…" Hermione confessed tonelessly. "It's worse now. I'm- I don't know what to do." She looked up at him in desperation. "I can't be this anymore."

Regulus scanned her in worry. "Look, I know this is bad. But I won't abandon you." He ran a reassuring hand over Hermione's arm. "I'll get you out of here. I'll ask Dippet if I can buy you. He's probably gonna be happy to get rid of you."

Hermione looked up at him, hope daring to unfold in her heart. "You'd- you'd really do that for me?"

"Of course." Regulus smiled at her. Then he continued and each gentle word cut cruelly into her, "You can work at Black manor until I graduate. Then I planned to move out anyway and you can come with me and work for only me."

For a second she just stared at him, hoping she'd misunderstood. "W- work for you?"

Regulus nodded, still smiling gently. "Yes. It's gonna be fine. It's not like I ever really needed a Mudblood of my own, so you wouldn't even have to do anything. It's going to be like a vacation. I promise. It'll be fine."

Hermione stared at him. Her eyes prickled but she didn't want to cry. Was that the solution? Her trading one master for another? Was that all she could hope for?

"I- I can't-" she stuttered helplessly, desperate for him to understand. "Can't go back. I was a student. I was… normal. I want- There's so much I want to do. I can't go back."

Regulus nodded and smiled at her sadly. "I know. But you have to be reasonable. This charade would have never worked out. If it hadn't been Riddle, something else would have blown your cover. You really need to be realistic now."

Hermione stared at him and didn't know what to do. She just nodded mechanically. There was nothing she could have said. She felt so sick and was afraid that, should she open her mouth, she would just scream.

Regulus threw her an encouraging smile that felt strangely patronizing. "It's for the best."

Again Hermione nodded. Her voice was strained and hoarse as she said, "I have to go back to the kitchens."

"Of course."

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

It was late in the night that same day that Hermione ghosted through the Gryffindor common room, cleaning up. She was immensely grateful that the students were already asleep. There was no way she could handle it if anyone else saw her like this. The Slytherins had been bad enough. She just didn't want to see the reactions of her own housemates.

Hermione rubbed a shaky hand over her face before she continued scrub the soot from a near-by fireplace off the carpet. Vividly, she could remember how she'd sat on the sofa in front of the very same fireplace, happily chatting with the Gryffindor students while enjoying the warm fire. Now she was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor.

"Mione?"

Hermione stiffened. Slowly she stood up before she turned around. Ginny came walking down the stairs. Her red hair was ruffled and she wore her pyjamas. Hermione's stomach churned wistfully as she saw Ginny. The red-head came to a halt directly in front of her. A small smile curled her lips as she scanned the older girl.

"What are you doing here?"

Hermione wanted to return the smile. In the end, though, she couldn't manage it. She just lowered her head and replied hesitantly,

"Cleaning the common room."

Embarrassment burned up in Hermione as she stood before Ginny in her filthy dress, fidgeting around with the cleaning rag in her hand. Ginny, though, didn't seem to mind at all. A soft smile hung from her lips as she stepped closer to Hermione and slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Come here," Ginny said firmly and pulled Hermione over to a sofa. "Sit down."

Shortly, Hermione hesitated. She really wasn't allowed to use any of the Gryffindor common room's furniture anymore. The soft pressure of Ginny's hand on her arm convinced her to sink down on the soft sofa.

"Here," the red-head said, offering Hermione a box of chocolate frogs.

"T- thank you, Mistress Weasley," Hermione stammered and reached for one of the sweets.

As Ginny didn't reply anything, Hermione peered at her. The girl's mouth hung half open and shock glinted in her brown eyes. Then Ginny whispered incredulously,

"M- Mistress…?"

Hermione didn't know what to reply. So she just nodded. Ginny's eyes grew even wider. Disbelief washed over her pretty features. Abruptly, she reached for Hermione and pulled her into a hug. Hermione stiffened and a shudder ran through her. She couldn't believe that the girl would touch her. Not now, that everyone knew she was a Mudblood. Hermione couldn't help it, though, and leaned into the touch. The warmth of Ginny's body near her managed to soothe her.

"Oh, Hermione," Ginny whispered gently. "I'm not Mistress Weasley. I'm Ginny. Your friend." She tightened her arms around Hermione. "I'll always be your friend."

Hermione's breathing was short as her eyes burned even more. Ginny released her from her tight hug and gave Hermione a bit more space.

"Hermione? What is going to happen to you now?" she asked gingerly. "Dean, Ron, Seamus and me… everyone in Gryffindor really, we're worried. We want to help."

Hermione nervously fiddled with a strand of her curly hair. She didn't dare meet Ginny's eyes and whispered shakily,

"I don't know. I think I'll work here for now. I guess Dippet is trying to keep this quiet as long as possible. But…" She cautiously looked up at Ginny. "What I did. It's really bad. I don't- They're sure to punish me severely…"

Ginny stared at her. "Punish…?"

Hermione gulped nervously before she admitted weakly, "Yes. I- I'm surprised they haven't…" She shuddered fearfully. "haven't already… carried out the sentence."

Ginny looked at her contemplatively. Then she reached into her robe pocket and pulled out a rumpled piece of newspaper. She smoothed it out before handing it to Hermione.

"Maybe that's why your case slipped a bit out of the focus."

Blinking in confusion, Hermione accepted the newspaper. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the headline on page one.

'Ancestry of Hogwarts' professor under suspicion

Remus Lupin, professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, faces trial before the Department for Observation of Magical Bloodlines after doubts concerning his parentage were raised. An anonymous tip has levelled grave incriminations against Captain Lupin, member of the Werewolf Corps and former Hogwarts student. The ongoing investigation is made difficult by the fact that the Corps has always rejected a mutual extradition agreement. Currently, Lupin manages to avoid arrest by residing on Werewolf territory.

Captain Lupin has been responsible for educating Hogwarts' sixth and seventh year students in Duelling and Dark Arts since he joined the staff three years ago. Colonel Fenrir Greyback, Lupin's commanding officer, outright rejected all negotiations regarding an extradition even if Lupin's status as Pureblood is revoked.

'It's a scandal,' comments Madame Dolores Umbridge, Head of OMB, and criticises the special status Werewolves are benefitting from. The Corps still operates under pre-Grindelwald conditions and makes no distinction between Purebloods, Halfbloods and even Mudbloods. 'This puts our society in danger,' Madame Umbridge insists and advocates a strict segregation from the Werewolf Corps and an expansion of Snatchers' rights to intervene. (For more information see pg. 11 to 13)'

"I don't think he'll return," Ginny said, sadness leaking through her voice.

Hermione looked up from the paper. A feeling of desperation was crushing her with might. Lupin… He wouldn't just leave her here, would he? Ginny eyed her, concern clear in her eyes. She reached for Hermione and gently skimmed her hand over her arm. Then she asked cautiously,

"Look, you didn't do anything wrong. They can't punish you."

Indignation was wrapped around the word as if Ginny doubted Hermione could be held responsible for her actions.

"They can," Hermione mumbled. "It's their right."

"For what?" Ginny cried in outrage. "For you wanting to go to school?!"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, not able to say anything, and Ginny continued angrily, "This is so wrong."

Hermione avoided her friend's furious eyes as she repeated numbly, "It's their right to discipline me."

"Hermione, no!" Ginny protested loudly.

She grabbed Hermione's chin and turned it so she had to look at the red-head. Ginny stared in Hermione's brown eyes as she said seriously,

"No-one – not Dippet and certainly not Riddle – no-one has the right to hurt you."

This time Hermione didn't break eye contact with Ginny as she whispered dully, "I'm a Mudblood. They can do whatever they want."

Ginny stared at Hermione, sadness and anger swimming in her pretty eyes. Gingerly, she took Hermione's hand in hers and held it comfortingly. Hermione shuddered at the contact. She closed her eyes and asked, her voice breaking,

"Can I stay here? Just for a little while?"

Instantly, Ginny slid closer to her and wrapped an arm around Hermione's trembling shoulders. With Ginny so near and the red and gold colours of the Gryffindor common room around her, Hermione could, just for a second, pretend to still be a student. Pretend, that her biggest problems were the upcoming NEWTs or the decision of what she shall do after her graduation. Hermione pressed herself closer against Ginny as finally tears spilled over. Soft sobs shook her body while Ginny cradled her in her arms.

"Sh, don't cry, Hermione," the red-head whispered soothingly. "We'll find a solution. You're the smartest person I've ever met. We'll force Dippet to let you go to classes. Then you can take the NEWTs with us. Everybody knows that you deserve it."

Ginny's warm words only made Hermione cry even harder. They were dreams nothing more. It took her a while to get her tears under control. Still shaking slightly Hermione slid a bit away from Ginny and sent her a watery smile.

"Thank you," whispered Hermione hoarsely.

"I'll talk with Dippet," Ginny promised. "I'll make him take you back."

Still smiling, Hermione shook her head.

"No," she said, sadness thick in her voice. "Dippet won't allow me to go to school. Even if he wanted to, he can't. I'm… It's not for me."

Ginny decidedly shook her head and grabbed Hermione's hand tightly. "Don't say that. You belong to Hogwarts. As a student."

"Maybe in a different life…" Hermione replied in a quiet voice.

{{{{{{{{+}}}}}}}}

'Once the Idisi set forth,

to this place and that;

Some fastened fetters;

some hindered the horde,

Some loosed the bonds from the brave -

Leap forth from the fetters!

Escape from the foes!'

- The First Merseburg Charm, a blessing of release (9th – 10th century)

Idisi, Disen or Valkyrie women