Author's note: Welcome back to the next chapter. I sprinkled in some spice for you all this chapter. The rating has obviously changed due to that. (Also because we're getting into darker territory- i tagged DARK Hermione did i not?) I felt we needed to get more into Hermione's head at this point, and it was imperative we see she was already breaking before Draco was captured. The song i sort of gravitated towards to get in Hermione's head was by Indila titled "Dernière Danse". Is it entirely in french? Yes. And. It's entirely magical, and haunting like the version of Hermione Granger i'm writing is. Enjoy my lovelies.

Xoxo

Catstclaire

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Ginny Weasley took a hex straight to the face curtesy of one of the Carrows, she was dead before she ever hit the dirt. She had only been 19. It was a bitter pill for Harry to swallow, that her body hadn't been able to be recovered. It was to close to Voldemort's strong hold however, and no one was crazy enough to try and go back for it. Hermione had cried for days imagining Ginny's face sunken in and rotting, there on the forest floor with only maggots and worms to keep her company. She was probably just a pile of bones by now, but it still never sat right with Hermione, even now as killing Harry had become her life's goal.

Ginny was the only one who ever wanted to talk to Hermione about the baby. Everyone else it seemed, just wanted to pretend it never happened. That Astra had never happened. Ginny would kiss her cheeks, and tuck her into bed in the days that followed Astra's delivery. Draco had been pulled for another mission right after. In order to correct the one Hermione and Luna had been on that went horribly wrong. And so Draco wasn't there for her recovery. It was Ginny who cleaned her bed sheets, and helped her to the bathroom. It was Ginny who wiped away the blood from between her thighs, that just seemed to keep coming no matter how many healing spells were cast. Ginny was the one Hermione leaned on, and sought comfort from during that pitiful time in her life.

Ginny had been the only one that understood why she had done what she did to Luna.

On their mission Luna, and Hermione were supposed to be making a pick up. Simple. Supplies, and odds and ends the Order needed. Draco wouldn't have let Hermione go if it had been anything more dangerous.

The morning before she left Draco had said as much to her while they laid in bed together. "I don't like you taking missions."

"I'll stop once we hit 30ish weeks i think." She answered him fondly, as her hands ran through his sleek blonde hair. His arms were wrapped around her and his head was laid gently on the prominent bulge of her stomach. He liked to talk to the baby like that, with his face pressed right up against Hermione's bare skin. "I'll be to rotund to do much of anything but read, and eat eclairs soon." She wouldn't be able to run, if she needed. She was already having trouble moving about their home, and she was only 25 weeks by that point.

He smirked.

"What?"

"Just trying to picture it. You. Bigger." He kissed her stomach. "I quite like the idea. You nice and round with our child. Let's have another right after? Every year i can fill you up and keep you like this." Another kiss, and Hermione laughed.

"Getting a bit ahead of yourself. Don't you think?" Her thumb slid down his head to glide against his cheek soothingly. "We have to see how things go." How the war went. They hadn't meant to get pregnant with Astra in the first place. With everything going on Hermione was already worried for Astra's safety. It would be brash to bring anymore life into the world before the war was over. Not to mention she was needed. The Order-Harry needed her. Her pregnancy had already sidelined her for alot of things she should have been a part of. She couldn't waste anymore time.

Time was to precious.

"You're right. Like always. It's a nice fantasy though, one i intend to circle back to, when things have settled." Draco palmed her stomach but rose from the bed. "Best get ready, then. Lovegood will be here soon won't she?" Draco smiled. "Doubt she'll appreciate finding us like this." Naked.

Hermione grinned devilishly, and slid her foot up achingly slow against Draco's inner thigh. He groaned.

"Luna could do with some loosening up." Luna was the prudish sort of type, which always made Ginny and Hermione devolve into fits of laughter when it showed.

"You insatiable witch." He clutched at her ankle like a man starved, he kissed his way down it, until he got to her lips. He stared into her eyes, and the butterfly's in her stomach whipped around into a crescendo of epic proportions.

"Draco-" her voice had turned breathy, and she gasped when he pushed into her again. "Please."

When Luna arrived, as expected she had been less than thrilled to find Draco and Hermione still in bed. She couldn't wait to recount the face Luna made to Ginny when she saw her next.

They left to make the pick up, but before they did Draco had kissed her stomach one final time. "Be safe. My darlings."

An hour later, and Luna and Hermione would both be cursed. Someone in the Order had given them up, that was the only logical way to explain why the Death eaters showed up when they did. Harry refused to believe it. Even as Hermione and Luna were brought to the Order's safe house, and a healer summoned for them. Even as the child in Hermione's womb was dead, and she was laboring to expel it. Harry refused to believe it.

Even as he looked upon Luna's horribly disfigured face and chest, and the healer said she'd probably never wake up, and even if she did she'd wish she had died. He wouldn't allow that there was a traitor among them.

Luna would live in pain for the rest of her life the healer said. Hermione watched Luna after she had delivered the baby and she was buried, Luna struggled to breathe in her cot. Her chest barely rose at all. Her delicate pink lips were dried out and bleeding, and her already pale skin somehow even paler. She wanted to take back all those times she and Ginny had laughed at her. Staring at Luna tiny, and broken, and half dead, and all Hermione felt was remorse. Hermione's own wounds were fresh, and her bottom ached something terrible, but she couldn't leave Luna there like that. She just couldn't.

Hermione couldn't take back anything. She couldn't go back in time and be kinder to Luna. She couldn't go back to before they left for the mission, and stop them from going. What she could do for Luna however, was one final kindness. She could put her out of her misery. She could send her to wherever Astra had gone. Yes. It had to be nicer there.

Anywhere was nicer than here.

Hermione took Luna's wand from the bed side table, and slowly undid each of the enchantments the healer had placed on her. The one that helped her breathe, the one that soothed her burnt skin, the one that kept her heart beating.

The healer had said Hermione had been 'lucky' because if she hadn't been pregnant, if Astra hadn't taken the brunt of the curse than Hermione would be in the same way Luna was. Hermione hoped if it had come to that someone would have done her the kindness she was giving Luna, but they probably wouldn't because of Harry.

If Harry had his way Luna would stay stuck in these enchantments forever. Slowly dying, but unable to live. It was torture Hermione thought, and it's what Harry would have demanded be done with her if the roles were reversed.

Hermione watched as Luna started to gasp. She made frail little noises, like an injured bird. Hermione held her hand, and saw the exact moment her chest stopped rising. A trail of blood trickled out of her mouth, and stained her dressing gown at the collar.

Hermione's hand started to shake, and she pulled it away. She didn't know how long she stood there staring at the first person she ever killed, she just knew by the time Ginny found her she was cold and trembling.

"Hush now." Ginny rubbed her back, and led her away. "Shhh. I've got you now."

She put her to bed right before Harry and Ron stormed in. Ginny wouldn't let them in the room with her, but she heard them whispering and arguing outside the door all the same.

"What the hell's wrong with her!" Ron blustered. Hermione could envision that little vein in Ron's forehead as it bulged on the other side of the door. "She's killed Luna!"

"Keep your voice down." Ginny hissed at him she seemed entirely to calm for the situation. Hermione wondered if maybe she and Ginny were both in shock.

The sound of the doorknob rattling was heard.

"Not now." Ginny told them both. "She's been through so much already, leave her alone."

"She's just killed someone Ginny. She broke the law. She needs to be-"

"What?!" Ginny demanded suddenly angry at her brother's remark. "Sent to azkaban?" Someone was pushed back against the door. "Who's going to send her? Who!" She screeched. "I won't let you!"

"Ginn settle down-" Harry finally spoke up. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh, and then there were a few horrible moments of silence, where Hermione pulled the sheets over her head wishing everyone would go away. "I wish she hadn't." Harry said. "I can't believe what she's done, but I don't think she knew really. If she had she wouldn't have. She's been through alot like you said. She isn't in her right mind."

Harry sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as the others.

"Yeah..." Ginny agreed without really meaning it. "She didn't know what she was doing."

"So we're supposed to just let this slide?" Ron's voice was full out outrage.

"No." Harry allowed. "I think now, we just keep our eyes on her."

Hermione lulled into sleep sometime after, she wasn't sure why she slept so soundly that night. The shock? Her wounds? Or perhaps another reason alltogether had her sleeping as soundly as the newborn she should be nursing would have slept.

Ginny told her in the days that followed, she had done the right thing with Luna. Not to feel bad about it.

And Hermione hadn't.

Harry had been wrong.

Hermione knew exactly what she had been doing when she killed Luna. It was no accident, she felt entirely in her right mind when Luna stopped breathing.

She recognized it then. That when Astra died, and she killed Luna, Hermione had been irrevocably changed.

Nothing seemed to be funny anymore. Food tasted like ashes in her mouth. Had the sky even dulled in color somehow?

She started drinking dreamless sleep like pumpkin juice, in an effort to chase after that wonderfully deep sleep she'd had the night she became a new Hermione.

And when Neville Longbottom turned up at St.mungos after being on the receiving end of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand. Hermione sat with him for a few hours, told him all the lovely things she remembered about him from school, and how his Gran wouldn't want for a single thing ever again. Malfoy money would see to it.

Bellatrix gave him the same she did his parents. Neville was gone, his mind at least. The week long torture he endured from the Cruciatus curse had left his body, and nothing more.

Hermione put him, gently to bed, the same way Ginny had her all those times. She pet his hair a bit until he fell asleep. Then she enchanted him to remain asleep. She took the pillow from behind his head, and held it down over his face.

It didn't take him long to pass.

Then on her way out of St.mungos Hermione obliviated each of the healers who had seen her arrive.

Harry didn't need to know about this, nor did the other Order members, and especially not Draco.

She already felt everyone's eyes on her after Luna. She worried Ron might bring up Azkaban again if he knew. They just wouldn't understand. Hermione was sending them off somewhere better. Somewhere they wouldn't be in pain. She was helping her friends when no one else would.

That night after Neville's passing Hermione slept as wonderfully as she had when Luna passed. She hadn't even taken a drop of dreamless sleep.

She made the healers believe Neville had died prior to being brought to them. So that was the story that everyone believed when his funeral was held.

Only Hermione knew the truth.

...

Molly had remarked once. "Sentimentality will be the death of that boy." She had said this about Harry during a Christmas in which he had given every member of the Weasley clan exceedingly well thought gifts. Gifts that he had specially picked for each of them. They were heart felt, and sincere. It probably took him months to gather them all.

For Ginny a quidditch jersey signed by her favorite team. Ron got a chess board that was enchanted to change color, and it's decor according to his mood. For Molly and Arthur they were gifted a new clock with their children's faces on it, and also their new grandchild. Charlie got fireproof gear. Bill a set of wand holsters, he had taken to using 2 wands as of late. Each gift he had given was well thought on and took the person into account. It was entirely more thoughtful than a boy of his age should be.

There were few things Hermione had ever agreed with Molly Weasley on. They seemed to have different political views, and differed on what they believed made a proper witch wife. The one thing she had come to agree wholeheartedly with Molly on was that yes. "Sentimentality would be the death of Harry Potter."

Just not in the way anyone could have ever predicted.

Who could have predicted what Hermione was up to? Afterall.

All the way hidden up on the top of a mountain. Where there wasn't a soul around for miles. Was Hermione Granger. She had fled to the only place she knew of that the Order couldn't get to.

When she had worked under Snape, he brought her here. When he taught her things one could have only found in the restricted section at Hogwarts. He didn't like prying eyes on him while they worked, and neither did Hermione for that matter. Snape had built a small cabin that was hidden away by enchantments, and the anonymity the wilderness provided naturally. The cabin had only a single bathroom, and the rest of the space was open much like a studio apartment. The workbench, and Snape's potion vials, and his personal notes were still exactly where he left them all that time ago. Now they sported a thin layer of dust, that Hermione did away with by the flick of her wand.

She checked his ingredients cabinet, and found much of what she already wanted in it. This cabin would serve her well. It was pure luck that the Order had no idea of it's existence. They could look for her for a century, and never find her. She was Snape's secret keeper here. She had never told anyone where she went when she was with Snape, not even Draco.

Hermione's only company at the cabin was the occasional creature that dared to cross her path out here. Snakes mostly.

When she first set foot on the mountain she knew they had started following her. She could hear the hiss of their bodies as they writhed through the dry grass. There were almost of dozen of them when, Hermione wrenched the cabin door open for the first time since Snape met his end. They watched her intently, and a few of them even rose their heads up.

When she left the cabin in search of more supplies the next morning she tripped over a fat 2 foot rat snake, that had coiled itself in front of her door.

He looked at her avidly with his gold foil, slitted eyes. His tongue flicked out. She had startled him given by the way he held himself tense, and he looked very ready to spring. She smiled at him, because he had given her yet another idea of how she could take care of Harry. She held her hand out so he could scent her, and when he seemed to relax she ran a hand over his scales. He leaned into the touch, and his tongue flickered again.

"Who's a pretty one?" She cooed at him, and pulled the door shut behind her.

She left, and when she returned with all of the supplies she expected to need for quite awhile she found the same snake coiled back in front of her door. She picked him up and gently laid him to the side. It was incredibly warm out today, she noticed. She came back out with bowl of water for him. Two other smaller snakes had joined him at the entrance. She nodded to them.

It had been a week since their confrontation in Harry's home. Hermione had been hard at work, and barely slept or ate. She continued to work on her current plan, and the contingency plans she established. She began brewing more polyjuice and other potions she may need later. She read Snape's notes. Her mind hadn't been this focused on a task in a long time. Every second Harry continued to breath was another second Draco remained trapped.

She tried not to think about what they were doing to him. Torture. Starvation. Probably worse than those.

The second time Hermione tried to kill Harry Potter she decided it would be done with sentimentality behind it.

Hermione had purchased a potted plant. Devil Snare. She enchanted it with over half a dozen spells of varying intricacies. When she was done with it, it would appear to the naked eye that the plant was no more than a Clematis.

She placed it in a bright purple pot, and attached a note that would lead Harry to believe it was a gift from Colin Creevey's family.

Harry had been hung up on Colin Creevey for years. He blamed himself for Colin's death. He blamed himself for not being there when Colin was killed. Colin's family of course never blamed Harry. In fact his mother sent Harry regular gifts in the post. Chocolates, and little trinkets.

Hermione captured a wild owl, and spelled it into the capability of a delivery owl. It was a barn owl. She sent it off with Harry's gift, and smiled knowing she would have Draco back soon.

A day later the barn owl came back. A note attached at his foot. It was addressed to the 'brightest witch of the age.'

'Nice try.' Was scribbled out in all to familiar handwriting. 'Almost got me.'

She laughed because it was so witty, and funny. It was so Harry. Hermione could just picture him writing it out on the scrap of parchment. His fingers clumsy and his glasses sliding down his nose. She could almost pretend it was just a game the two of them were playing. It was like tag, but death came at the end of the game.

She stopped smiling when she thought more about Harry and how trusting he was. That he could even still joke with her, after what she's done after what she was still doing.

What an absolute moron.

She remembered his righteous fury the night he found out about Peter Pettigrew. Where was that now? For himself? He had been distraught finding out his father had been betrayed by his best friend but when the same happened to Harry, he didn't seem to hate Hermione nearly as much as Pettigrew. He didn't seem to hate her at all even.

Hermione crumbled his note.

She still had other plans. Not all was lost yet.

A more elaborate plan would be needed.