AN: Welcome to my story. This one has been floating around my brain for the last six months. Yes, I'm playing with the whole Hermione is a pureblood, and is betrothed to Draco. But it's going to be an angsty slow burn. The title is inspired by Sweeney Todd. Also, if you recognize anything from the Potterverse, let's just go ahead now, and say it doesn't belong to me.

If you'd like a read that's a little more fast paced in the romance department, please check out my other story, My How Things Change.

Prologue

Emily Nott stood at the window of her bedroom, her hand resting on her swollen belly, staring, unfocused out at the expansive grounds. "Ringdove and robinet, Is it for wages, Singing to be sold? Have you decided it's safer in cages, Singing when you're told?" She sang softly under her breath. She closed her eyes, and leaned her head against the window, her mind going to a happier day.

Yes, the war was waging, but she'd been so excited to have graduated Hogwarts, and her father had promised to take her to the west end. She'd adored muggle theatre for as long as she could remember and her father was always happy to indulge.

"You see Emily?" he'd asked her after a thrilling afternoon seeing A Midsummer Night's Dream when she was 8, "You see how they don't have magic, and yet they can make the most extraordinary things happen? That's how we know that the muggles are just as worthwhile as us."

A tear ran down her cheek. Blood-traitor they'd called him, her whole family to be honest. It's why they were all dead now, all except her, and her cousin who was married to another blood traitor family. She wished she'd been killed with the rest of them instead of being brought to her very own gilded prison.

"My lord," her now husband had bowed before the evil man, holding her in his grasp by her hair, wand digging into her neck.

The man, if you could really call him one, looked at her bored. "I thought I ordered you to kill them all." He'd said in a lazy whisper.

Thoros swallowed before answering. "It seemed a shame to kill the whole line, my Lord. And she is the youngest. Barely out of Hogwarts. And my line needs to continue. I thought you might allow me to continue two pure lines through her. After all, she is a pretty thing, and allowing such young, and pure blood to perish would be a tragedy."

Emily clenched the hand not resting on her belly into a fist, and punched the magical glass, willing it to break, even though she knew it wouldn't. After all, she couldn't even leave the front porch without her husband's say.

The door to her room swung open. She remained in her position. The less she had to look at her husband, the happier she was.

"And how are our blessings today?" Thoros asked, coming up behind her.

Emily sighed. She hated that he called them their blessings. The twins weren't blessings. They were pawns in an elaborate game. One she didn't want to play anymore. One she'd never wanted to play. She turned to face him, knowing she'd be punished if she answered without looking at him. "The twins are fine."

She pushed past him, waddled to the large bed that sat in the middle of the room, and sat down on the velvet covers. She glared at him. "What do you want? You know that I told you I don't want to see you unless it is life or death."

Thoros smiled coldly. "I bring good news my dear. I have managed to secure our daughters future happiness."

Emily laughed hollowly. "You're going to kill her? Bit cold even for you considering she's not even out of the womb yet."

Emily wasn't sure when he'd moved from where he'd been by the window, but the next thing she knew, his hand was around her throat, and she was gasping for air. "You think I'd kill my own flesh and blood? These children are the promise of our line." He released her throat, and she fell forward as much as her distended belly would allow, taking in deep gasps of oxygen.

"No," he continued, flexing the hand that had just been around her throat. "I have found her her husband."

Emily looked up at Thoros in horror. "You what?" She whispered.

"Lucius and Narcissa have a son who was born in June. I expect that our son will grow up with him, take up arms together, and when all three are of age, Draco, will marry our daughter. The Malfoy and Nott lines have never been connected, so it seemed advantageous to connect the lines now, considering that I am to have a daughter, which hasn't happened in three centuries." Thoros finished looking quite proud.

Emily stood up. "You monster!" She yelled. "You have taken my freedoms, my choices, but now you would take your own daughters? You disgust-" She threw her hand against her belly.

"What happened?" Thoros looked at her with mild curiousity.

Emily groaned and sank to the ground. "No, no, no, no, no. Not today, little ones, please not today."

"Mipsy!" Thoros shouted, and with a small pop, a tiny elf appeared. "It would appear your mistress is going into labor. You know what to do."

The elf nodded her head, and slowly started coaxing Emily back into the bed. "I will be back when they are both born. I have to go sign the marriage contract with Lucius now."

Emily groaned, but the pain was becoming too much for her to say anything. She'd ignored the signs of labor for too long.

Several hours later, Emily lay on the bed exhausted, two infants lying in her arms, while tears streamed down her face. Of all the things from her old life, Mipsy was the one kindness that she was allowed to keep.

"I knows you be sad Mistress Emily, but these are good things. These are things that you can love again." Mipsy said kindly, cleaning up the room from the after effects of the bursts of magic that had happened while Emily gave birth.

Emily closed her eyes, and swallowed. "Take her far away from here Mipsy."

Mipsy stopped moving. "What?"

Emily placed her son down on the bed next to her, and focused solely on her daughter. "Take her to a muggle hospital. Switch her with a baby who is dying, and then let the muggles take her. Find her ones who will love her. If she is dead, then Thoros can't destroy her life before it begins."

Mipsy looked aghast. "Mistress does not know what she is asking Mipsy to do."

"Mipsy, this is an order!" Emily whispered. She took her focus off her daughter and trained it on Mipsy, tears in her eyes. "I cannot save them both, but I think I can protect Theo. I cannot protect her as long as she is raised in this house. Do as I say, and as long as it is safe, never tell anyone what I told you to do. It is her only hope in life." Emily said, her voice breaking as she finished.

Mipsy nodded, tears in her eyes. She gathered the small girl in her arms, ignoring the small cries coming from the baby. Right before she left the room to do as her mistress ordered, Emily said, "Her name is Hermione. Make sure they name her Hermione."