I hope you guys like this story so far...here's Chapter 2!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's

Hermione opened her eyes abruptly, already starting to feel the bags under her eyes. She got up, hitting her head on the short, grimy ceilings in the Azkaban cell. "Oww-what?" Remember, you're in Azkaban. Because Voldemort won The War? Oh! Yeah...

"Mum?" The 11-year-old girl next to Hermione yawned.

"Oh..Um...I'm Hermione. Do you remember everything that happened yesterday?" Hermione felt so bad for having to tell the girl that her parents were dead and that she was most likely going to be murdered.

"No, I don't...wait...no, that was just a nightma...NO! Mum, Papa, they're gone! And..and You-Know-Who took over! And...MAEVE! She..she was killed...there's-there's no more hope." The young, dirty-blonde haired girl cried.

Hermione responded. "Shh...I know, it really stinks. We are going to take care of each other, all of us muggle-borns. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named isn't sure that he'll kill us yet. But my parents are dead, too. And my boyfriend and best friend. Plus, Voldemort-" The little girl gasped, and Hermione corrected herself. "You-Know-Who hates me anyways. I'll be the first to be killed, if he kills us."

"I-I hope he doesn't kill us. Oh no!" The little girl started weeping. "No!"

Hermione sat on the ledge in the cell next to the young witch. "What?" She asked, concerned.

"I am horrible at surviving. I am, what my mum used to call, 'under average but extraordinary'. That means that I'm not at all good at taking care of myself. Like, I make good decisions, but I end up getting freaked out on my own. I always need to have an older person watching over me. And now I don't have any because my parents are dead! And Maeve! I miss her so much!" The young girl weeped.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. What's your name?" Hermione comforted the girl.

"Um.., it's Ellie. And Maeve's my little sister; she's 6. She was killed, when that scary lady with black frizzy hair killed my parents. A death curse flew off a wall and hit her. I don't know what I'll do without my family!" Ellie cried.

Hermione was about to answer, but was interrupted by Narcissa Malfoy.

"MUDBLOODS! I want you all to listen, because I'm only saying this once: The Dark Lord has requested that all of you follow me to my-excuse me, the Malfoy Mansion. His intentions were not clear." With a swish of her wand, Narcissa Malfoy opened all of the cells and let everyone out. She started walking very, very fast.

"C'mon, Ellie. We don't want to be Crucio-ed." Hermione took the young girl's hand in her own, and started to follow the people in front of them, as those people followed the people in front of them until Narcissa Malfoy was at the front of the line. In no time, Hermione and Ellie were smiling, even though there was so much that wasn't to be happy about, as they soaked up the sun.

"MUDBLOODS! Stop smiling like lunatics; Lord Voldemort wants you! Let's move quickly." Narcissa walked briskly, and closed the large iron door to Azkaban with a hard swing. She took out her wand and made a circular motion around the entire group, and within two minutes all of the mudbloods and Narcissa were in the ballroom of the Malfoy Mansion.

"Ahhh, thank you, Mrs. Malfoy." Voldemort smirked. "Now, for the mudbloods. I have decided what to do with you. After extensive research in the Malfoy library with my friend Bellatrix, I am come across a marvelous discovery that will save almost all of your lives." Voldemort paused, and Ellie shivered at the mention of the woman that killed her sister and parents. "You see, in ancient times, when wizards and witches really didn't understand their capabilities, all wizards and witches of any blood status were equal. Obviously, now, we follow the fact that mudbloods are and will always be worse than Purebloods, but that is not the point. Now that I have killed Harry Potter, I am anxious to kill you all. But I am also very anxious to increase the amount of Purebloods in the wizarding population. And, in this book I found, I learned that when all were treated equal, the children of Purebloods who had had pure blood in their family veins for over a century and muggle-borns were Pureblooded." Hermione thought that would likely be the only time she'd ever hear Voldemort say muggle-born instead of mudblood. "Anyways, I am hoping that most of you can piece this together. I am sacrificing my ambition to torture you all to create many more Purebloods in this world. Do you understand?"

Ellie whispered in Hermione's ear. "I don't get it. What does he mean?"

"No...no, no, no..." Hermione whispered to herself. "It's complicated. One moment, please, Ellie."

Voldemort started again. "For those of you who don't understand, I am going to pair you with a Pureblood who is part of a Pureblood family that's been completely Pureblooded for over 100 years to get married to. Luckily for us, all of our Purebloods are that way. You will have at least 2 children in the next 2 years, and will be under my close supervision. I would like at least one child in exactly one year from each pair. Do you understand me now?"

Ellie looked horrified. She raised her hand, shaking. Hermione couldn't believe that Ellie was going to act like she was in class. This was VOLDEMORT they were listening to!

"Yes, filthy girl?" Voldemort spat.

"I-uh-what will happen to us, the muggle-born children?" Ellie talked so quietly and softly that it was very surprising that Voldemort could hear.

"I have yet to figure that out. Now, for spouse assignments. I would like all of the little mudbloods to leave so that we can do this calmly. Bellatrix, usher them out now." Voldemort ordered.

Hermione felt sorry for Ellie, since the psycho who killed her entire family was leading her out of the room. But the bookworm had bigger issues.

"Now, I have not really put much effort into these matchings because I do not care. I did, however, take into consideration age. You should be matched with someone that is no more than 2 years older or younger that you. Bellatrix wrote them up on this parchment...let me see if I can decipher her curly manuscript. Okay, we have..."

Hermione waited for what seemed like hours. More and more names were called, most of which Hermione did not recognize. She wished the Ron and Harry could be there with her. She really needed comfort, and the Weasleys had fled Hogwarts once they found out that Ron was dead. Hermione really needed to try to figure out what had killed her boyfriend; mysterious bleeding until death...she hadn't heard of that before. The bookworm was awakened from her thoughts by hearing her name being called by the hideous, no-nosed, little-of-a-man. "Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy." Voldemort called out. He then started to speak again, but his time not to the entire group. "Awww, COME ON Bellatrix! My best young Death Eater and the filthiest mudblood that lives? She was DATING A WEASLEY! BEST FRIENDS WITH THE BOY-WHO-LIVED! What is wrong with your judgement, Lestrange?" Hermione was really hoping that Voldemort would be so outraged that he'd change the match, but Hermione didn't generally have luck like that. "Erica Jansburg, Silzer Yeztlyn."

NO! Hermione thought, the truth finally sinking in. NO NO NO NO NO! She would not put up with Malfoy as a husband-and having to have a least 2 kids? This was happening way too fast, way too soon. She still wasn't over Ron's death! She was sure that he had made plans for a proposal...she may have seen a ring in his sock drawer...Anyways, this was really, really bad.

"Okay! Now that you all know your matches, I am having the following happen; by this evening we will have magically built a large building with many different rooms for all of you to live in with your spouse. It will be positioned just a couple hundred yards away from this very mansion. Please, just meet with your spouse and start to think of baby names or whatever it is that soon-to-be parents do. We'll have baby stuff supplied in each of the rooms in the building. Just enter these doors right there, and find your partner. You all have name tags on." Hermione looked down, and, sure enough, right there on her chest was a name tags with her name on it. She really wouldn't need name tags, though, as she knew exactly the man she was looking for. She angrily stormed through the double-doors Voldemort had so kindly pointed out, in look for the hellion of all hellions, Draco Malfoy.