DISCLAIMER. None of the characters used are a creation of mine. They belong solely to JK Rowling.
She hadn't shed a single tear.
Not since Papa had died and she had once again been plunged into being at the forefront of a brewing battle. His death had been a reminder that she was here not for a second chance at life but for a second chance at victory. A second chance at liberty. A second chance at a war.
She hadn't shed a tear even when she'd realised she'd been in this world for eight very long years and had not found a single trace of Harry.
She hadn't shed a tear throughout her mourning. Not even when she had been so sure of every bit of hope having been squashed.
She hadn't shed a tear even when she'd seen Rab, the only ray of light in the desolete island that her life had become, stumbling into their home looking every bit of the broken man he had become at the hands of their brother, someone who was supposed to look out for them but had only dragged them deeper into his personal hell.
She hadn't shed a tear while signing away her life to a cause so unjust .. a cause that would suck out the blood from her very own veins if it could.
Because she was a mudblood.
And no time apart from the ugly brand that had marked her in her previous life could ever make her forget the horrors she had faced because of being one.
She hadn't shed a tear.
Not even when the events of the night to come would render anyone powerless against the misery of the world.
Hermione hated the Malfoy Manor. She was only glad they didn't hold their meetings in the same room as the one she'd been tortured in more than once. But being under the same roof still grated on her nerves.
She was slowly getting used to the dimly lit Manor. It truly was a wonder how even the sunlight flooding in couldn't brighten up the place.
Each time Hermione was summoned there was almost always some poor soul screaming for his or her life. This day was no different.
As soon as she entered the main hall, transfiguring her silver dress into her standard black robes, she saw a man in his late twenties bleeding onto the carpeted floor. Rodolphus kept hitting him with the Cruciatus every few minutes, never giving him the chance to gulp in fresh air while the fifteen or so Death Eaters gathered around cackled with mirth filled laughter.
Hermione schooled her expression into one of disdain as Voldemort rose to his feet and stamped onto the man's stomach. Binding his torso with a rope spurned out of a dragon's skin that burned human flesh at contact, he cast a quick spell to discard his shirt leading to shrill howls splitting up the air every time he breathed.
She noticed how Voldemort gained sick pleasure at the pain those beneath him suffered. His eyes lit up like he'd found the elixir to life.
She saw him sneer at the man and give a welcoming smile to his enraptured audience.
'Ah, my friends.. we gather today to set out on a little raid. It's been quite some time since we had some fun, wouldn't you say?'
Murmurs of agreement went around as Hermione felt a chill settle at the base of her gut.
Voldemort walked through the ranks of all those assembled, placing a hand on each person's shoulder, 'There is a Muggle village I want you to blast away. The Ministry needs reminding who's really in charge round here and I have to admit,' he smirked, 'the news has been awfully boring these days.'
Hermione's muscles tensed as she felt someone sidle up next to her but looking into the face of her brother calmed her somewhat frayed nerves.
Rab looked at her, trying to reassure her but failing miserably.
'Lucius,' Voldemort commanded.
Lucius perked up and bowed his head, 'Yes, my Lord?'
'I plan to send a delegation over to the vampires. We have had support from the werewolves but our vampire friends still remain aloof. I have hopes that the news of the imminent fall of the Ministry will persuade them better.'
'I would like to volunteer myself to head this delegation, my Lord,' he preened.
Bellatrix looked hurt and a little angered, 'My Lord, please, let me.'
Voldemort said, 'No, dear Bella, your services are required elsewhere tonight. Lucius shall go visit the vampires heads currently residing in Russia along with your brother in law while you will be heading the party to the village.'
Rodolphus' eyes gleamed, 'Rabastan shall do his job very well, my Lord.'
Rabastan nodded tightly, the vein in his forehead pulsing, letting Hermione know how he truly felt about the entire ordeal.
'I believe you will be gone for quite a few weeks,' Voldemort went on, 'But I do hope you will return with some very good news.'
Rab kissed Voldemort's feet and left the hall, following Lucius at a brisk pace, sparing his sister one last parting glance leaving her to now feel extremely terrified of what was to come.
Hermione let no emotion show on her face, keeping her mind completely blank of any thoughts. She kept her body rigid, showing no signs of weakness or fear. Dumbledore had taught her well.
Voldemort turned to her and asked her to step forward before calling for Rookwood to do the same.
'Since you are the youngest here and the newest additions, this shall be an excellent opportunity for you to prove your abilities and truly become one of us.'
Rookwood fell at his master's feet while Hermione performed a perfunctory curtsy.
'I trust you will not hesitate and take this night as a way of showing to those who doubt us how we are the true masters of this world.'
He turned to the others, waving his hand and effectively dismissing them before whispering into the ear of Bellatrix.
Rodolphus walked up to Hermione, escorting her outside the Manor and Apparating her to a village set atop a hill somewhere in England.
The nightair was still, snow laden pavements devoid of anybody. watching the hill lined with small huts emitting chimney smoke and the nearby Church filled with the joyous sounds of children singing along to Christmas carols was like living through the calm before the storm.
The mist rose amd swirled.
She saw one of the Death Eaters walk up to the Church, raise his wand and blast the windows making shards of glass fly into the sky and fall onto the ground making the snow look like a shiny pedestal.
It was then that all hell broke lose.
Screams erupted from inside the Church, people running out the doors, adults rushing their children out dressed in beautiful red and green dresses and suits. A pair of Death Eaters set to destroy the Church as the smaller groups disbanded to go further up the hill and attack random houses.
The village was filled with screams and howls of pain as green and red flashes devoured the countryside.
Hermione was somehow paired with Bellatrix. Cursing her luck, she set her eyes to destroying property and trying her best at not letting her spells hit anybody. Hermione demolished the walls of the tiny builiding that was probably the school, rationalising how it was bound to be empty at such an hour. She brought down the swing sets, making them fly away into the distance hoping they wouldn't land on an innocent bystander.
From the corner of her eye she saw Bellatrix aiming at a young couple rushing to take cover behind a pub. She cast a quick, 'Reducto!' and jumped up and down, laughing in glee as the walls of the tiny builiding broke down, revealing several people inside with their faces struck with overwhelming fear.
She glided along the streets, every now and then blasting away a window or two, sometimes bringing down boulders that fell onto the roads and added to the rising rubble.
Hermione desperately wanted to get away. Far enough to be able to send a patronus and alert Dumbledore. But it kept becoming increasingly difficult since the village was really nothing but tiny and wherever she went, a Death Eater was already present raining down hell on their victims.
Hermione ducked behind an abandoned workshop. She fell upon the sight of a small child limping away with a stuffed bear in her hand, crying hysterically and calling for her mother.
Hermione risked a glance around her and bent down to take the girl in her arms. She felt a stab of pain in her heart as the girl cringed and shuffled away from her, her sobs becoming even louder. Hermione tried to placate her but knew she wouldn't listen unless she gave her a reason to.
Making quick work of it, she cast a healing spell on the gash that ran along the girl's calf and saw as she looked into her eyes with bewilderment clear on her face.
Hermione motioned for her to hide and waved her wand around, muttering under her breath, 'Habingwell, England. 15 Death Eaters.'
She saw the wispy animal take form and run away into the open skies.
Hermione cast a protective shield around the girl who was still sobbing to herself and crept around the workshop, landing herself in the middle of the slaughter once again.
She fell upon an old man struggling to take shelter, his legs not helping him at all. She pitied the state he was in, his clothes torn and his right arm hanging limp onto the side. It was too dangerous to help him out what with being in clear range of vision of three different Death Eaters.
But her conscience wouldn't allow it. She couldn't just look past him now that she had seen him suffering.
Making a quick analysis of her surroundings once again she only came up with the same results. There was no way she could help him.
It broke her heart. It really did. To walk away as if he didn't matter crushed her and yet there was nothing she could do. She was as helpless as he was.
A puppet on a string.
Let me be brave.
Casting another few curses that sent the walls of warehouses toppling over, she reached a clearing surrounded by trees on three sides. Rowle and Scabior stood leering at a crowd of few men and women who were caught out in the streets not that those hidden inside their houses were any luckier.
Most of the houses had already been targeted, sending their inhabitants running for their lives.
Hermione looked around herself, feeling hopelessness settle in. Where was the Order?
She ran away, falling upon another clearing. When she rounded up the corner, her eyes almost bulged out her sockets. She felt her breath catch.
Right in the middle of the townsquare was an ancient tree to the branch of which where hung two men, their heads split open and the blood pooling onto the grass below.
Yaxley stood beside cackling.
Bile rose up her throat, her vision blurring. She wished to kill the bastard right away but couldn't, not without ruining her cover.
She saw Rodolphus conjure up huge wooden crosses, erecting them into the grounds.
He yelled, 'This is what you did to us. Or at least tried to,' he laughed. 'Let's see how you fare up on a pyre.'
He grabbed a little boy with red hair by his neck and tied him up to the cross, binding him to it with ropes as thick as his hands.
The boy cried out, 'Maman! No! Please.. Maman! Let me go.. please..' He kept looking at a woman lying dead on the ground, hoping she'd come running and save him.
Burke carried a pretty woman, not much older than Hermione herself, tying her to the cross beside the boy. She kept screaming as her legs buckled over. She tried to fight him off but only ended up with a resounding slap etched onto her face.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat.
'Maman! It hurts, please!'
The boy was no older than five.
The woman beside the boy tried to reach out a hand to the boy, trying to calm him down but to no avail.
Hermione strained her ears to listen.
The woman whispered, 'Hey, kid, it's okay.. your Maman.. she's .. she's not here right now.. but she's.. she's safe, okay?'
The boy heaved a breath, his sobs subsiding. 'I just want my Maman..'
'Your Maman will see you soon now.. very soon..'
'I will? I .. I want her.. now..'
'Just a little longer, okay? And it'll..'
'Silence!', Rodolphus thundered. He whipped around to face Hermione, his eyes taking on a malicious glint. 'Come, sister. The Dark Lord will be very pleased once he learns of this.'
Hermione was caught. If she refused it wouldn't take long for her aversion to be known. But to give herself up.. give her morals up..
Just a child. A little boy. Only five. And he would never see another day. He would not live to grow past five.
And that woman. She probably had a lover somewhere. A mother of her own. People who'd miss her. People she was the most important person to.
Could she inflict upon them such pain?
You have to.. for the greater good..
Hermione wanted to stab herself with a knife because this felt nothing like saving the world. The greater good was a lie.
Each life mattered, didn't it?
Rodolphus encouraged her to go on, 'Don't keep us waiting, Hermione. Let the fun begin!'
Her eyes met those of the boy's. There was only terror. Stark white terror. The woman sent out a small prayer to the gods above and shut her eyes to the horror in his lands.
She would be the child's monster.. the woman's demon. She would be the bringer of Death for them.
Their own personal Reaper.
Hermione rose her wand, readying herself to let go of all her humanity.. her faith.. her beliefs. But before she could even open her mouth she saw a bright red flash of light coming her way. She strained her eyes to find a tall blonde haired woman stare back at her with a gaze burning with hatred. Her maroon robes swiveled around her as she arched a graceful arc in the air and hit Hermione with a curse that sent her crashing into a small boulder.
There was some hope after all.
Hermione didn't try to aim at her attacker. She merely ducked and doged the curses flying her way and made her way out. She could now see several maroon robed strangers fighting the Death Eaters, circling around the villagers and guarding them like sentinels. Hermione knew they were outnumbered. She waited to see what Bellatrix would command them to do, hoping for her to put an end to this madness. But her luck was always running against her and so she saw Bellatrix overcome with a wave of pure fury as she sent several of those strangers hurtling into the air.
She truly was a powerful witch. If only she'd used her strengths to do some good in the world.
Rookwood was battling a woman, sending curse after curse at her. Rosier was paired off with a wizard who was unrelentless with his spells. All around her, the Death Eaters had met their match, a few of them even having fallen down.
What bothered Hermione was how the Order had never had a uniform. So who were these people?
Whoever they were, they were helping the villagers and that was all Hermione truly cared about. And so she dug into the battle once again, never attempting to really cause harm, staying out of the range of fire herself.
She could see a couple of Death Eaters fighting by themselves on the farthest corner of the village. They would be easy to take out without attracting too much attention.
Hermione slipped away and towards them, silent on her feet. She recognised one of them as Dolohov. She was filled with rage at the sight of him. Very carefully manouevering herself, Hermione cast the Killing Curse at him.
He wasn't her first victim so there had been no hesitation and yet a part of her did rebel against what she'd done.
But it was the right thing to do. Dolohov would only go on to hurt plenty of other people and that just wouldn't do.
She aimed at the second Death Eater but before she could cast a spell, he fell into a heap as another one of the maroon robed strangers hit him with a violet light.
Hermione was glad. The presence of these strangers would cover her own kill. It would have raised suspicion if one of Voldemort's men had died at the hands of muggles.
Hermione heard a popping sound coming from every direction. She could see various Order members coming in to join the fight. Her heart almost leapt at the sight of Moody.
But she maintained control and schooled her expression into one of concern. She ran over to Bellatrix who was engaged in a ferocious duel with none other than McGonagall.
She yelled, 'We should leave. We're severely outnumbered. We're fighting a losing battle!'
Bellatrix spared her a cursory glance and nodded tightly. 'Gather everyone and leave! I have some last minute business to attend to.'
Bellatrix's words worried Hermione. She ran over to every Death Eater she could find, urging them to leave the battleground.
Rodolphus grabbed her hand, 'Come on!'
'What about Bellatrix?'
Let her rot here. Let Death meet her here.
'You heard her. She has business to attend to.'
Rodolphus Apparated her away, once again landing onto the Malfoy grounds. They fell upon the remaining Death Eaters, only nine, gathered around Voldemort who looked so enraged Hermione actually felt tremors run along her body.
'And you let them? They attacked you and you let them?! You are a disgrace! Mere muggles!'
Rodolphus tried to calm him down, 'My Lord.. we were outnumbered. There were so many Order members there. We raised enough havoc to make the front page. The Wizarding World will know of our wrath.'
'You are correct, of course,' Voldemort breathed in, closing his eyes as if to shut out the world, 'but we lost five men tonight. Five able bodied men.'
Rodolphus looked away, awaiting punishment.
Hermione lowered her eyes and saw from the corner of her eyes as Scabior fell to the floor writhing in pain and lashing out.
'Crucio!' Voldemort yelled. 'Contristo!
There was a squabble outside. Bellatrix entered, looking all the iron she was underneath, fhe infamous Black madness glinting in her hoided eyes. In her hands were three wands belonging to the men she levitated inside.
One of them, Hermione saw, wore the same maroon robes she had seen back at the village. She tried to take a look at the raven haired man but the darkness inside the Manor hindered her vision like always.
Bellatrix fell down at Voldemort's feet, 'My Lord, they caught up to us. Somebody tipped them, I am certain. Those filthy Muggle lovers were everywhere. If you'd allow me I wish to interrogate this one,' she pointed at the dark haired man, 'There were almost a dozen of these. One might think there's more than one organisation fighting against our efforts.
'As you demanded, I have brought to you men to be paraded around to be set as an example.'
Voldemort's eyes scrunched up as he sent the other two men away and into the dungeons. He screamed, 'Vulneravi!'
The man's fists curled up, his fingers scratching against the floorboard.
'Sanguines!'
His body tore up in several places, blood rushing out.
'Ideste!'
He let out not a single scream. His mouth remained firmly shut as if no amount of pain could break him. Hermione could see his hands turn deathly white and yet she couldn't come up with any way to get him and herself out.
Wait. Get him and I out?
Something inside her was begging her to bundle him up and take him far away into safety and never let him out. She truly didn't understand where such feelings stemmed from. She was confused and astonished as her body demanded her to rush to his side and take whatever spell came out from Voldemort's wand. She wished to shield him from any harm. She wished to kiss his pain away.
Her brows furrowed as Voldemort kept flicking his wand sending him up into the air like a rag doll being thrown around the room.
'Take him to the dungeons!' Voldemort thundered, his voice sending another set of shivers down Hermione's back.
He whipped around to face her and Rookwood, his eyes set in slits 'And how did you two fare tonight? How many lives did you take?'
Rookwood muttered, 'Three, my Lord..'
'Three? Such a measly number? Tell me, did I send you to make a fool of yourself? Crucio! You blithering mongrel! Besmirching the Pureblood name! Crucio!'
He cupped Hermione's face, his grip on her skin like a vice, 'What about you, you silly girl?'
She painted a picture of several dead men and women in her mind, 'I lost count, my Lord.'
Voldemort mumbled, 'Not enough. You should have massacred the entire village! Burned it into the ground! Crucio!
Hermione felt her body fall. She looked up at the same roof.. the same roof she had seen so many times as her body writhed much like it did now.
Control your emotions!
Never once did she let go of her shield. He cast the Cruciatus on her thrice but she didn't allow him the satisfaction.
It would take more than an Unforgivable for Hermione Granger to break.
Voldemort let out a frustrated sigh and proceeded to punish several of those in the hall but Hermione never even flinched. She knew she could take whatever he sent her way.
When it seemed like he had finally had enough of tormenting measly creatures such as herself, they were all dismissed.
Rodolphus and Bellatrix remained in attendance with Voldemort discussing certain crucial aspects of the night's events.
Scabior shuffled away, the stolen wands now in his hands, to keep guard for the night.
Hermione, as instructed, climbed down the stairs to the dungeons with the pathetic excuse of food the prisoners would be fed. She felt pity surface in her heart.
Her lips quivered with all the pain that had come with the evening but she shed no tears.
She entered the dungeons and moved towards the man who had been tortured before she had left for the village.
She had learned he was no other than Edgar Bones.
He spat in her face, pushing the food away.
Hermione whispered, 'This is the best you'll get.. you'll need all your strength for whatever he has planned for you.. please..'
'And what do you care? You Death Eater whore!'
When he seemed to make no effort she moved onto the others, his words hurting her like a sword would.
The two men who had accompanied the maroon robed man were far too gone for them to realise what was happening around them. Their minds were muddled beyond belief.
She then moved to the very last man, hoping for a clearer look at this person she had longed to throw herself at.
No. No, putting a face to him would only hurt much worse.
So she pushed the plate in front of him and turned away.
But as she did she heard the one voice she had longed to hear all this time. She heard herself being called by a name she hadn't heard in eight very painful years.
She felt the walls around her heart crumple. Her breath caught as her wand almost slipped out her hand, her fingers reaching for the knight in her robes.
Don't do this.
She couldn't have been so tired to be imagining this. Fate couldn't be so cruel to play with her like so.
She hadn't shed a tear even when she knew she'd seen much worse than what had happened at the village that night but hadn't had the heart to face herself knowing she had been a part of those who had brought about such slaughter.
She hadn't shed a tear when she had realised that she would have burned that little redheaded boy with the woman on his side who had wanted nothing but a little peace for the child beside her.
She hadn't shed a tear because she had been numbed to feel nothing.
To be nothing.
And yet as she stood vigil in the dungeons of a Manor that brought her nothing but misery, she cried.
She heard him again.
She heard him loud and clear.
And she shed a tear.
'Mione?'