Ron was returning to the house after outside training with some of the guards when he ran into Astoria. He now walked alongside her horse as she rode it back to Greengrass manor at a lazy pace. The two of them were laughing and japing with each other while sharing stories about their families.

"I'm confused. Are you named after the hotel or the city?" Ron wondered after the girl explained the origin of her name. He thought it was beautiful. But before he met Astoria Greengrass, he'd never heard of anyone with such first name. Up until now, he reckoned it was either some traditional name of the Greengrasses or yet another peculiarity of the old pureblood families.

"In honor of my grandmother, actually," Astoria told him proudly. "Before she married my grandfather, her surname was Astor."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "So what's with the hotel?" he asked and Astoria looked at him abashed.

"Her family was like super-rich... still is," she explained before looking around and adding quietly, "Unlike some, they did not totally break things off with their squib line either. Even their muggle descendants are ridiculously wealthy."

"How ridiculously?"

"Very," she said seriously. "A hundred years ago, they were like royalty. To commemorate them, tons of places all over the world are now called Astor or Astoria..."

As he listened to her speak of her grandmother's family, Ron could not help but feel a pang of jealousy at yet another reminder that compared to Astoria, he and his entire family were utterly piss poor. He rubbed his wrist nervously as he quickly suppressed the thought. Besides, he'd already come to terms with it. It helped that Astoria wasn't in any way stuck up or boasting about her family's wealth. She did so in the beginning, but only to rile him up and not because she meant it. In fact, she was a genuinely nice girl and unlike many people, Ron thought she deserved to be wealthy.

"Ginny kinda reminds me of my sister," Astoria said after Ron told her about his youngest sibling. "I guess Harry really likes opinionated girls," she giggled. "Then again, I've never seen Daphne play quidditch so perhaps they are different too," she added with contemplative look.

"Can she even ride a broom?" Ron asked before mentally smacking himself, realizing there was virtually zero chance of pureblood like Daphne Greengrass not knowing at least the basics of broom riding.

"Of course she can," Astoria answered, fortunately not getting offended as his insinuation. "She just prefers keeping to the ground... and horse riding. You should see her sometimes. She's a master at it."

"Better than you?" Ron asked skeptically while looking up at the younger girl proudly sitting on her beautiful mare like it was a second nature to her.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Astoria admitted with obvious envy. "That trick with side-along apparation while running? I don't think I'll ever master that, even after I get my license."

"And what about you? Do you like broom riding?" Ron asked next. He knew Astoria wasn't a member of the Slytherin quidditch team but that was it. Come to think about, he couldn't recall any Slytherin girl ever making the team.

"I don't play quidditch much but I like flying," she said and looked around them before saying wistfully. "Sometimes I like to fly around the grounds and just enjoy the scenery. It all looks so different from above."

Ron had a dreamy expression as he imagined what she was saying. "Maybe sometimes we could go flying together," he said before he could stop himself.

"Hmmm," Astoria pondered the offer for a moment. Finally, she nodded and smiled down at him. "Agreed... it's a date," she told him with a teasing pout before giggling hysterically.

Ron smiled back weakly at that. He knew she was joking but hearing her phrase the sentence that way nearly made his heart stop. The truth was that he very much enjoyed talking and spending time with Astoria Greengrass. The girl was unlike anyone he'd ever met. A constant source of intrigue he couldn't help but adore. Granted, on occasion she could be just as cold and serious as her older sister. But most of the time, Astoria was laid-back and fun-loving, possessing a chipper personality that made people instantly like her. She was also very pretty and intelligent.

Was it any wonder Ron found himself falling for the younger girl?

It took him a long time and a lot of furious denial before he even admitted to himself that's what it was. But finally even he couldn't keep lying to himself. Astoria Greengrass was constantly on his thoughts. He felt more alive when around her, happy when she smiled and depressed when she was sad. He even dreamed about her some nights.

It felt really weird to be in love with her after the girl had him tortured and humiliated just few months ago. Ron could even recall how much he hated her for it at the time. He would constantly tell himself that wasn't the real Astoria he had experienced in the beginning. But some part of him suspected that wasn't completely accurate either and that there really was a potential in her to be utterly cruel and heartless.

So which Astoria was the real one? The fun-loving, nice girl who wanted to help people or the evil, narcissistic bitch who had him tortured for her amusement and revenge? He rubbed his wrist again nervously as the uncertainty which of the two it was (and the distinct possibility it was both) threatened to overwhelm him.

Uncertainty whether Astoria Greengrass was good or evil aside, there was also the undisputable fact she was someone's fiancée. Ron never imagined he'd be the type of man who'd obsess over another bloke's girl, let alone a fiancée. Not even when the bloke in question was Draco bloody Malfoy.

All in all, Ron knew being with Astoria was impossible for him and loving her was quite possibly the worst mistake he could ever make. But no matter how hard he tried to suppress his feelings, he just couldn't do it. He would have said something to her already if only he'd thought he had a slightest bit of chance with her.

But sadly, he knew Astoria truly loved her future husband and he apparently loved her. Should Ron confess his feelings to her, he'd be soundly rejected. Worse, their friendship would also be over as they'd never get over the awkwardness. And Ron couldn't handle the thought of no longer being able to speak to her... to be no longer allowed near Astoria.

"You told me about all your brothers and sisters... except the eldest... William," Astoria said after a while, bringing Ron out of his thoughts.

"A-are you sure you want to hear about him?" he asked carefully, knowing Bill was the one to kill her father. It was the reason the younger Greengrass sister tortured him in the beginning and something they didn't speak about until now.

Astoria didn't look at him for a while as they walked across the grounds, she on her horse and Ron on the ground beside her. Finally, she spoke. "I think I need to," she said determinately, still looking ahead and not at him. "I need to know he's something else other than the monster who killed my dad," she said and sniffled.

Ron still didn't know whether telling her about Bill was a good idea. But he also couldn't deny her. He told her everything.

"Working for the goblins must be awful!" the girl exclaimed once he told her about his brother's job.

"Yeah, it is. He's always complaining about it," Ron admitted before shrugging. "Apparently, the pay's good though."

"Of course it is! Nobody would put up with them for anything less than a fortune," Astoria said and snorted. She then asked more questions and once again Ron obliged her against his better judgment.

"Fleur Delacour…" Astoria sang the name with a decently accurate French accent after learning of Bill's wife. "I was totally in love with her when she first came to Hogwarts, you know."

Ron stopped in his tracks in shock. "Y-you were?" he gasped in disbelief. "How?!"

Astoria stopped too and turned her horse around to look at him. "I'm sorry," she apologized sarcastically. "Were you under the impression only boys were going crazy from her?" she said and smiled as she recalled those days. "You never noticed how half the girls in the castle, including me, would go on to emulate every aspect of her for months?"

"Eh-" Ron stammered as he tried to recall anything like that. He knew Hermione wasn't among those girls and neither was Ginny seeing as she didn't like Fleur even then. He couldn't recall anyone else.

Astoria shook her head. "You really are so unobservant, Ron Weasley," she said and giggled. Then she turned her horse back ahead, missing Ron's longing look in her direction.

They resumed their walk towards the stables.


Back in the stables, Astoria removed the harness from her horse and proceeded to clean her up. Ron would help her by handing her items she asked for but otherwise she performed the routine alone. Meanwhile, Ron tried not to stare at her too much or too obviously. The form fitting riding clothes she was wearing certainly didn't make it easy for him.

"Tori… can I be your bodyguard?" he finally vocalized the question he'd been holding onto for a while.

The girl sighed at that. "We've discussed it already. No. You can't be seen with me when you're officially supposed to be at home, bedridden with serious disease," she answered without pausing in her work as she hosed her horse, not understanding the full meaning of his question.

Ron shook his head. "No! No. I mean, after the war is over," he clarified.

This time Astoria paused in her work and turned her full attention on him. "You're joking, right?" the girl asked but when she noticed his serious expression, she realized he was not. "You're asking me for a job?" she asked in shock.

"I am."

Astoria's shocked expression was quickly replaced with contemplation and Ron felt nervous as she measured him up and down. Finally, she seemed to have reached her decision as she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ron. But I don't think it's a good idea," she told him, crushing his hopes in the process.

Seeing his downtrodden expression, she then added kindly. "If you're really looking for a job, just ask Harry and Daphne. I'm sure they'll have tons of options for you, including a position among the household guards."

'I don't want job. I want to be with you!' Ron thought while instead saying. "I'd really like to be protecting you."

"Well, that's really sweet," Astoria smiled, grateful and utterly oblivious. She then shook her head again. "But I really don't think Draco would like that. It'll already be hard enough for him to stomach the idea of Harry Potter being his brother-in-law. Hiring you as my bodyguard as well would be too much for him."

Ron was panicking at this point as he sensed his plan falling apart. "You're going to let him tell you what to do?!" he tried to appeal to her pride. It was a tactics he knew usually worked with Astoria. But in this case, he made the mistake of making his tone unnecessarily unkind when referencing her future husband. He instantly regretted that when Astoria stopped smiling.

"No… I'm being a good girlfriend," she huffed with annoyance before walking towards him and crossing her arms in front of her chest. "How do you think Draco will react to the idea of his arch enemy..." she said while making air quotes, "... hanging around his future wife all the time?"

"I mean, how would you feel about that in his place?" Astoria asked him challengingly. She was standing very close now and her chin was raised proudly as she berated him, reminding Ron of her aristocratic heritage. Intellectually speaking, he could see her point but for the most part Ron didn't give a rat's ass as to how Malfoy would feel about anything. Most of all, he regretted not being able to kiss Astoria in that moment...

Before he could say or do anything he might regret, the girl continued. "Besides, the real question is not about me but rather whether you would let Draco tell you what to do?"

"W-what do you mean?" he asked in trembling voice.

"Oh, come on," the girl said while throwing her hands up in the air. "I'm going to be Mrs. Malfoy, you know that!" she told him and Ron shrank back at the reminder. "And as such, I can hardly have my personal bodyguard challenging or disrespecting my future husband, can I?" Astoria told him.

"No... I guess you can't," Ron reluctantly admitted.

"Which means that as my bodyguard, you'd have to treat Draco with respect and at times even obey his orders as if they were mine," Astoria stressed before pausing and letting the idea sink. Finally, she said, "Do you think that's something you could actually accept?" the young blonde asked skeptically.

'Yes! No!' the opposing thoughts rapidly warred in Ron's head as he opened his mouth. "I-" he began but couldn't go on.

Astoria shook her head with a loud sigh and then went back to cleaning and brushing her horse. "Really think this through, Ron," she pleaded with him. "Have you discussed it with Hermione yet?"

"No… I haven't," he admitted.

Astoria paused again and looked at him with disbelief. Even the girl's mare seemed to give him a deadpan expression. "And why not? I know you like her… you said so!" she reminded him.

Ron had indeed told her that... many weeks ago. In this moment though, it seemed like a lifetime ago and he wasn't sure it was still the truth. He still cared for Hermione a lot and would do almost anything for her. But whenever he closed his eyes these days, it was honey blonde hair he would see instead of brunette. Grey eyes instead of brown. He hated himself for it, but thinking of Astoria made his heart run faster in ways Hermione just didn't. Not anymore.

"Well, don't you think your future job is something you should discuss with her?" she questioned. "If only to learn her opinion."

"Hermione likes you... she'll love the idea," he immediately suggested while rubbing his wrist nervously.

Astoria snorted at that and Ron could have sworn the horse intentionally echoed her. "Please... she doesn't like me enough to be happy about you working for purebloods," she insisted despite Ron shaking his head in denial.

"You're wrong?" Ron asked, a mixture of a question and a statement. It was the closest he could make himself come to challenging the girl openly. "The two of you are friends," he whispered in vain hope.

"Are we really?" she asked and turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "I enjoy her company and would like for us to be friends. But she constantly disrespects my sister… and I'm not saying Daphne doesn't deserve it sometimes or that Hermione's wrong for fighting back. But I can never be true friends with someone who loathes my sister this much," she finished before looking into his eyes. "And Hermione's smart. She knows it too."

At last, Ron lowered his eyes in defeat, feeling like the entire world was conspiring against him. His best friend whom he thought he'd loved was a prisoner of the sister of the girl he currently thought he loved. As if that wasn't enough, said girl was completely in love with one of his bitter enemies and not him. When did his life turn into such a mess?

"I want to change now," Astoria suddenly spoke up while looking at him intently. Ron noticed she was finished with the horse and was about to change out of her riding clothes. He immediately turned around so she could do so with privacy. In the meantime, he thought long and hard about what he wanted and what Astoria said would be the price.

He knew that unless the girl by some miracle stopped loving Draco, there would be no future for the two of them. But he still wanted to be around her more than anything else. Besides, he enjoyed his training and thought he'd make a good bodyguard. Was being forced to obey the ferret such a big price for seeing his dreams come true?

"Astoria," he spoke softly, his gaze politely averted. "About what I said, will you at least think about it?"

"Would you be willing to obey and show respect to my future husband?" she shot right back and Ron gulped down before almost whispering.

"Yes..."

There was only silence after that and Ron grew nervous. "Tori?" he asked uncertainly, not daring to turn around until she would allow him to do so.

"Fine… I'll think about it," she finally conceded and Ron nodded in acceptance.

"Thank you."


Hermione was walking down the corridor away from the residential rooms and towards the library where she would meet with the goblin Griphook.

Despite her high hopes, her conversation with Ollivander was sadly not too useful in the end. Hermione desperately wished the old wand maker to confirm the Elder wand (and by extension, the Hallows) was nothing but a myth. Instead, Mr. Ollivander told her the exact opposite, claiming the fabled wand was real and its existence traceable throughout history.

Assuming Daphne Greengrass hadn't already brainwashed him into supporting her false narrative, something Hermione feared was a possibility, she was for the first time forced to entertain the notion the pureblood girl might have been telling her the truth about the Elder wand all along.

And it was a terrifying idea! It would mean Daphne Greengrass now possessed the most powerful wand in history. Harry Potter had been stupid enough to hand it over to her on a silver platter and so now the most potent magical weapon in the world belonged to a pureblood supremacist of the worst kind! As if the evil witch needed to be even more powerful and successful – something Hermione was loath to admit she'd helped with recently.

It was a shock when they asked for her help but she agreed nonetheless, surprising the couple in return. It wasn't an easy decision but ultimately she concluded Daphne and Harry were correct in this case. Leaving a person of unknown loyalty in a position where he could either hurt or protect children in Hogwarts was either a disaster waiting to happen or a wasted opportunity. Therefore, even though she hated Daphne for being an awful person and Harry for his betrayal, she couldn't in good conscious reject their offer.

Admittedly, a part of her also wanted to demonstrate to Harry that he still needed her and that his new girlfriend couldn't solve everything for him. Hermione also wanted to show Daphne she was wrong about her and muggleborns in general.

But it's been a fool's hope on both accounts. Harry was grateful for her help but still wouldn't do anything to really improve her situation. Hermione was still powerless and completely at the mercy of Harry's twisted girlfriend, who deep down knew damn too well there was no objective reason strong enough to justify subjugating the muggleborns. But like all bigots throughout history, Daphne would continue to do so regardless. Even if there was a muggleborn ten times smarter and powerful than her, the pureblood girl would still insist they were inferior and had to bow down before her in submission… or be beaten down to it.

How ironic the only friendly person she had left was Astoria Greengrass, a girl she knew had a nasty mean streak hidden within her, but who at least wasn't an irredeemable bigot like her older sister. And then there was Ron, of course, but sadly he didn't have power to change anything for her. The two of them had also strongly contributed to her decision to help expose Snape, with Astoria practically begging her to try and appease Daphne in some way. Meanwhile, Ron agreed with the younger girl, being additionally greatly dismayed over Hermione ending her friendship with Harry.

Neither of them could understand.

She knew Ron was simply pushing for what he thought was her best chance for survival. Hermione also believed the younger Greengrass sister was sincere in her efforts to protect her. But they were both extremely naive as there was no chance for her to coexist peacefully with Daphne Greengrass or to somehow appease the evil girl. Hermione and others of her blood status would never get a fair treatment from her. Even the way the blonde had 'rewarded' her after her help, with all its colonial attitude and paternalism, had showed Hermione what she could look forward to under the rule of bigots.

In the end, Hermione didn't regret helping Harry and Daphne with Snape as it allowed her to learn a lot about her captor's plans for the future. She now knew with absolute certainty what she had to do – escape. She had to escape from Greengrass manor while she still could!

Every day she remained at Daphne's mercy was the day the pureblood girl might finally decide to permanently deal with her. And Hermione didn't mean just killing her or keeping her asleep. In the Greengrass library, she read some truly horrifying things magic can do to a person. She had been personally threatened with some of them. And without her wand, she was absolutely helpless to stop any of it.

For all she knew, Daphne might have done something to her already. At the very least, it would have been trivially easy for her. For example, Hermione had been examined by the household healer several times already. She didn't remember anything untoward happening but who's to say they hadn't at some point strapped her to the examination table, her brain operated on, and her memory adjusted?

After all, cutting parts of her brain away to make her more pliable was something Daphne Greengrass had threatened her with in the past. The only reason why Hermione knew she hadn't done so already was that the blonde would have no doubt gloated if she had. Daphne would have shown her the removed piece of her brain and then gleefully laughed at the fact Hermione was now permanently defeated.

Hermione's saving grace was that so far Daphne Greengrass had been focused on beguiling Harry and defeating Voldemort. But the former was now fully accomplished, with Harry Potter so much under the girl's control Hermione didn't think there was any hope for him left. As for the latter, Daphne and Harry had a solid plan and were about to move ahead with it.

Which meant that Hermione had to escape soon, before the war was decided. Because once it was over and purebloods firmly controlled the country, she knew Daphne would do something to make sure Hermione was never a threat again. She didn't know what that something would be but she could clearly feel the metaphorical noose tightening around her neck, creating an ever increasing sense of urgency.

Hermione instinctively increased the speed of her walk... only to almost crash into someone after turning into the corridor in front of the library. The person was standing motionless just around the bend and Hermione stopped just short of smashing her nose into their face. She momentarily panicked when she saw the mane of blonde hair in front of her, fearing it was Daphne Greengrass who she'd almost run over. But it was the wrong shade of blonde. She took a step back and focused on the person only to realize it was Luna Lovegood.

"Please don't do it, Hermione," the Ravenclaw told her in serious voice before Hermione could greet her or apologize for almost crushing into her.

"Do what?" she asked in genuine confusion. It seemed to be her default expression when speaking to Luna these days, a main reason why she avoided the younger girl as much as possible.

Instead of clarifying her strange words, Luna looked at her with confusion. "I don't know that. How could I possibly know that?" she answered like it was obvious and Hermione was foolish to even ask. "Just don't do it, alright? It'll be horrible for you if you do it," Luna repeated with her earlier seriousness.

Hermione stared at her for a moment, "I have to go... have a nice day, Luna," she finally said to the younger girl who she was starting to suspect wasn't just quirky but outright insane. Hermione moved to the side to slip past her and fortunately, the blonde didn't make a move to stop her. The last thing she saw before entering the library was Luna Lovegood still standing on the same spot and looking sadly in her direction.


Hermione has entered the library and immediately saw the goblin Griphook sitting in the corner. He was easy to spot seeing as he had two guards, a man and a woman, standing behind him and watching his every move. She cautiously approached them, not sure whether Daphne had informed the guards of her arrival or communicated the fact Hermione had a permission to speak with Griphook. Fortunately, the female guard nodded at her as soon as their eyes met, allowing Hermione to come closer.

Hermione silently greeted both guards before standing in front of Griphook's table. "Excuse me," she addressed the goblin and then asked politely. "May I join you?"

Unfortunately, Griphook either hasn't heard or chose to ignore her. He didn't even look up or acknowledged her presence, reading the massive book lying in front of him without interruption. She briefly glanced at the guards and found them watching her with faint smiles, obviously amused at her inability to communicate with the goblin.

"Mr. Griphook!" she called out a little louder this time.

This time the goblin looked up at her and she shuddered under his intense, piercing gaze. "Oh… you were seriously asking my permission to sit down?!" he hissed, a surprise mixed with annoyance. "You're either making fun of me or being an idiot if you think I have any power to stop you from sitting down," he told her with a sneer while glancing at the empty chair on the opposite side of the table.

"I'm not making fun of you!" she protested.

"Good… then you're an idiot," Griphook said with a grin and Hermione silently cursed for having walked into that one. "I still don't have any power whatsoever to stop you from sitting down," he told her and then went back to reading the book.

It wasn't exactly the invitation she was hoping for but Hermione decided to take it. "I was hoping I might ask you few questions?" she said after sitting down.

"I can't stop you from asking questions either. Just don't expect me to answer them," he replied, having already moved on from the novelty of Hermione's presence and gone back to his reading. The male guard snorted at the goblin's reply and Hermione sighed inside. Griphook clearly wasn't interested in talking to her at all and she wondered whether she should just leave. But before she could decide either way, the goblin spoke first.

"Well, aren't you at least going to introduce yourself?" he asked. "You humans are always so rude to us!" he berated her without even looking into her eyes. Seeing as he had already insulted her multiple times, Hermione found his statement very hypocritical and annoying. But she needed his cooperation and so she decided to use the opening and said, "I'm Hermione Granger."

This time, Griphook's eyes actually left the book and he focused on her with what could be described as curiosity in his eyes. "Hermione Jean Granger, born September the nineteenth, 1979?"

"Well, yes!" she exclaimed in shock and quickly asked. "How do you know that?"

"I was involved in confiscation of your assets last year," he explained with a shrug.

"Oh…"

Of course, Hermione already knew the Ministry had seized her vault at Gringotts. Daphne Greengrass gleefully informed her of that during their first one-on-one meeting. Financially speaking, it was no big loss as Hermione had expected the Ministry to eventually do this. She had taken precautions and almost fully emptied her vault, taking part of it with her on their quest and hiding the rest in the muggle world.

Sadly, whatever money she'd kept with her was now also lost as Daphne made it very clear everything Hermione carried during their capture belonged to her now. The evil pureblood witch had robbed her blind and didn't display the slightest bit of shame while doing it. There was a chance Daphne would return some of it after the war, but Hermione wasn't holding her breath.

"I'm surprised you remember me," Hermione finally said. "I imagine there must have been a lot of that going on back then," she told him bitterly.

Hermione suspected there had to have been dozens if not hundreds of similar confiscations after the Ministry fell to Voldemort. Some muggleborns had previously achieved great success in spite of the ever present discrimination or had brought wealth with them from the muggle world. They became the first targets of the muggleborn registration commission who stripped them of everything they had before kicking them out on the streets as beggars or throwing them in Azkaban.

"Yes, that's true," the goblin admitted. "However, your case is memorable for me as the Ministry also asked us to track down your assets in the muggle world. That's something not done very often," he told her callously, either not seeing or ignoring Hermione's expression of panic.

"W-what do you mean?" she stammered with bulging eyes and rapidly beating heart.

The goblin finally noticed her expression but rather than giving her a look of sympathy he actually grinned. "There were number of items but the most significant two were the savings account at Barclays and proceeds from the sale of a residential building in Hampstead Garden Suburb."

Hermione thought she would faint hearing that. The savings account at Barclays was where she'd hidden the rest of her money but it was the second item Griphook mentioned that was most painful for her.

"You sold my parents' house?!" Hermione cried with anguish.

She could not believe it. Her childhood home! Even the household guards looked at her with a tiny bit of sympathy at this point as Hermione realized she really had nothing. She was counting on having at least some property left in the muggle world but it was all gone!

"We didn't sell anything," Griphook retorted angrily. "First your Ministry declared your parents missing and presumed dead with you as their sole legal heir. After that, they ordered all your assets seized as proceeds from criminal activity."

"I'm not a criminal!" Hermione cried out in outrage and despair. "You had no right to do this!" she insisted, the unfairness boggling her mind. The only positive about it was they hadn't found her parents. Although with Daphne Greengrass now knowing where they were, Hermione could no longer draw comfort from that either.

In any case, her family's assets were likely gone forever. Had the war ended the way Hermione thought it would, decisions like this would have been declared null and void and justice restored. But with the Ministry remaining under the control of purebloods, there was little chance of that as restitutions for muggleborns who'd suffered from illegal seizures wouldn't be a priority.

Griphook frowned at her words. "We've received court protocols as well as warrants for your arrest… all legal and in order," he told her before turning dismissive again. "The rest is not our problem. If you think there's been a mistake, I suggest you either send owl to the Ministry or personally visit the financial management and revenue service department… business hours only."

"I have a kiss-on-sight order on me, you bastard!" she finally exploded, no longer able to calmly stand his callous disregard for the gross injustice his people had helped to perpetrate on her and other muggleborns, not to mention the ridiculous suggestions he's been making.

Instead of bristling at her insult, Griphook made what was probably goblin equivalent of laughter. It sounded like a cross between lion roaring and frog croaking. "So… there is some fire in you after all, human girl," he said with rare approval while the two human guards looked at each other with unease.

"The way I see it, you must have some powerful enemy at the Ministry. As far as I know, you were the only case where we were ordered to also seize muggle assets," he revealed to her.

Hermione stared at him with open mouth, quickly processing this new and shocking information. Her first and rather paranoid thought that it had to have been Daphne was quickly dismissed as the confiscations happened long before the girl became the head of her family.

After a while, Hermione concluded the Ministry probably gave her extra attention because of her status as Harry's friend and known associate. It couldn't be anything else other than that. Aside from Daphne Greengrass, there were no other purebloods with personal grudge against who'd also be powerful enough to order goblins around.

Still, while she felt relieve from not having yet another person after her, it did not change the hopelessness of her situation. Even if by some miracle Daphne Greengrass were to keep her word and release her after the war, where was Hermione supposed to go?!

She had no place left to go and no money to get there. Her only immediate option was to seek refuge with Ron's family. But how long before the purebloods running the Ministry would notice and arrange for Mr. Weasley or Bill to lose their jobs as punishment for sheltering her? No, she couldn't ask them to make their families suffer for her sake, which meant that after the war, she'd be homeless and possibly starving. All for the crime of being a muggleborn and wanting to be treated like an equal! Hermione was going to be homeless… while muggleborn blood traitors like Sue Li and her boyfriend get to live in a beautiful two storey house by a lake.

And the worst part was the way to avoid her ignoble fate would be oh so very easy. All she needed to do was get down on her knees in front of Daphne Greengrass and beg her for mercy.

The blonde might have insisted she was done with Hermione during their last talk, but Daphne would no doubt jump at the chance to have a priced muggleborn pet like Hermione. By having both Harry Potter and his muggleborn friend under her control, the girl's propagandistic message would be so much stronger. Even most muggleborns would listen to her then and willingly embrace whatever twisted fate Daphne had in mind for them.

As for Hermione, she'd be well cared for by her fair and beautiful pureblood mistress who'd see her rewarded for cooperation. Naturally, Hermione would have to apologize to Harry, admit being a muggleborn makes her inherently inferior, and acknowledge pureblood supremacy as the undisputable truth. But if she did all that, her future would be comfortable and secure. The rest of her life would be controlled by Daphne and the other purebloods but she wouldn't be homeless or starving!

Hermione knew she had to escape as fast as possible or else she feared submission to Daphne Greengrass would eventually become her only viable option. Even now, a small treasonous part of her mind wanted to give up already, just to have that comforting sense of certainty about her future again.

"Do you even know what my crime was?" she asked the goblin, noticing he's gone back to reading his book in the meantime.

"Don't know… don't care," the rude bastard answered but Hermione was going to tell him anyway.

"I'm a muggleborn. They say it makes me inferior to purebloods. That I have to obey them and be registered by them like I'm something diseased… and I refuse to do that," she said, briefly glancing at the two guards who were listening carefully. No doubt the content of her conversation with Griphook was going to spread around the Manor. But she was beyond caring. Besides, everyone already knew what her true feelings were, so it didn't matter.

"Well, you are right to resist," the goblin growled. "There is no difference between what you humans call mudbloods and purebloods."

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, glad to finally agree with Griphook on something, especially something so important to her personally. She was so happy about it she was even willing to overlook him using the m-word instead of the more politically correct term. Perhaps it was something specific to their culture or a slip of tongue.

Hearing her gratitude, the goblin looked at her warily. "You probably misunderstand me, girl. There is no difference between you and what you call muggles either. Purebloods, mudbloods, muggles… all of you are nothing but rejects," he declared with passionate voice that reminded Hermione of Daphne Greengrass when she was speaking about pureblood supremacy. Finally, Griphook smiled proudly and said, "Only my kind is truly worthy of the gift of magic."

"Yeah right," the male guard said and snorted. "Goblins are so superior. That's why you miserable cretins lost every single war you ever fought against us," he said derisively.

"Not every war, human," Griphook replied, craning his neck to show the man his teeth.

"Close enough," the guard insisted before pointing at the massive book lying open on the table, "I don't see us having to obey a treaty thousands of pages long." Afterwards, the two continued to exchange insults with occasional snippet from the female guard.

Meanwhile Hermione was furiously thinking about Griphook's words and what they meant for her. Her original purpose in speaking with him was to determine whether goblins would be inclined to support efforts leading to muggleborn emancipation after the war. Hermione desperately needed another ally for her cause and the goblins looked promising to her. In her opinion, they were the only magical species with enough power to possibly rival the purebloods. Unlike for example the house elves, the goblins were also not complacent and had actually fought for their rights numerous times.

In short, an alliance between muggleborns and goblins to overthrow the purebloods was an intriguing prospect for Hermione. But so far, it seemed the goblins simply hated all humans, regardless of blood status. And while that made them better in Hermione's mind than the purebloods, it also made cooperation with them problematic.

Even if temporary alliance could be reached and victory achieved, her allies would likely turn on her afterwards and attempt to enslave the muggleborns. And Hermione was not about to stop purebloods from oppressing her people only to end up replacing that oppression with something worse.

"He makes a good point, doesn't he?" Hermione said with great reluctance, supporting the human guard in their argument. "If you claim to be superior, how come you lost almost every war?" she asked, hoping to gain more information. It would probably rile the goblin up but that seemed unavoidable.

Griphook looked at her with hatred and she noticed the guards gripping their wands more tightly, probably getting ready in case he decided to bite her throat or something.

"You want to know?!" he finally spat. "It's very simple… numbers. Your kind breeds like mindless animals," he told her with an angry scowl that once again reminded her of Daphne Greengrass. That girl and Griphook were really a lot alike, she thought.

Hermione could not believe she was about to defend the purebloods but in this case, she had to. "The ability to reproduce is an important aspect of species' fitness. If you can't keep up with humans and it causes your species to dwindle, then that means you're not actually superior," Hermione informed him. Few years ago, she read a book on evolutionary biology and has been trying to slide some of the facts she learned into a conversation ever since.

The goblin made that strange laughing noise again before saying. "We don't reproduce like you do. We left that biological nonsense behind us when magic ascended us."

Hermione frowned at that. "What are you talking about? I've seen goblins of different age so you're clearly not immortal. And I know for a fact there are goblin children!" she protested.

"Stupid human!" he growled. "You see the body, not the soul," he said and at Hermione's confused look, he started to explain. "Fully accepting magic made our souls perfect, eternal and indivisible," he said and his face scrunched up with disgust. "Your kind is so unstable you lose part of yourself whenever you rub your reproductive organs together. It's revolting!" he finished and Hermione stared at him for a long time.

Finally, she summarized what he told her into a single sequence. "What you're saying is that goblins can't create new souls."

"Why damage ourselves to create new souls when we are all already perfect?" he shot right back.

Hermione shook her head. "But your bodies are still mortal, are they not?" she asked and when he nodded, she asked, "So what happens to your souls after you lose your bodies? What happens to you when you die?" she asked eagerly, excited to learn something new.

"We use magic to create new bodies," he explained. "Our priests later perform a ritual to rebind the disembodied soul."

Hermione gulped down nervously as that strongly reminded her of the method Voldemort used to come back to life. Could the dark lord have inspired himself with goblin magic?

"But where are you in the mean time?" she wondered. "Don't you have afterlife like we do?"

"The afterlife… bah!" he snorted derisively. "That's just a stopgap measure made by the Powers; a haven for stray mongrels like you who were unable to truly accept magic, nothing more."

"You're only saying that because you're not welcome there!" the female guard exclaimed.

"Oh, we're welcome there, woman. Unlike you, we just don't have to go there unless we actually want to," Griphook answered her over his shoulder.

"So some of you choose not be reincarnated," Hermione extrapolated from his last sentences. It seemed it was the wrong thing to say because the goblin looked at her with sudden flash of hatred in his eyes again.

"You just named a problem which had plagued my people from the beginning," he snarled. "Some of us choose to abandon their kind and never return after their death."

"See?! Even other goblins don't want to be around you!" the male guard yelled at him and laughed.

Hermione watched Griphook grind his teeth in anger and she quickly asked her next question before the two of them would start another argument.

"But I know there are half-goblins," she pointed out, thinking of professor Flitwick. "How were they born if goblins can't reproduce?"

Griphook shook his head in disbelief. "You have an amazing ability to name our greatest problems, girl," he said before tsking, "And yet there is also something wrong with your ears. I clearly said goblins don't reproduce with each other as there is no improvement upon perfection. But since humans are inferior and damaged, we can reproduce with your kind just fine," he said before giving her a toothy smile. "More precisely, we can reproduce with your females. Our bodies are superior and do not suffer the little mongrel parasite gestating inside us," he said with disgust visible on his face.

"One of the ancient rebellions was about these bastards using women as breeding slaves in order to build an army against us," the female guard mentioned and Hermione paled after hearing that. "They lost and the treaty was expanded to prohibit them from taking women by force."

"A sad day that was," Griphook said and grinned in the guard's direction. "Something tells me you'd have made a fine breeder," he said and the woman had to restrain her colleague before he could knock Griphook's teeth out.

"So you can't create new goblin souls… only half-goblin souls?!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked and confused by all the revelations. She was surprised Griphook was even telling her all this.

Griphook nodded to her question and then added. "You can read everything there is to know about my kind right here," he told her while gesturing at the books around them, having correctly guessed her thought. "So much knowledge was taken from us by this family and others like it," he said and sighed sadly.

So far, Hermione didn't read any goblin books while imprisoned in the Greengrass manor. But given the sheer number of books present, it wasn't that surprising. "But there are still half-goblins being born, correct?" Hermione asked all three of them, fully drawing the guards into the conversation.

"Goblins are still allowed to procreate with us as long as the woman consents," the female guard explained.

"What woman would willingly agree to sleep with that?!" her male colleague asked with horror.

"Oh, you'd be surprised, human," Griphook answered with mysterious grin. "Many of your females are bored and seek… adventure," he said and Hermione paled at the idea of some women willingly subjecting themselves to something so degrading.

The female guard snorted at his statement. "More like you pay them ridiculous amount of gold to carry your young. Even then, half the time the child chooses to be human rather than live as one of you."

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Griphook waved her comment away dismissively. "Those of us with human ancestry are not real goblins, anyway. They are viewed with disdain. Our people try to limit the practice."

His last statement proved to be the last straw for Hermione. "You discriminate against them because they have human ancestors?! You're just like the purebloods!" she cried out with anguish and wondered whether the entire magical world was filled with this senseless bigotry. Why couldn't people just be nice to each other?

Griphook made that strange laughing noise again. "Nobody ever accused humans of having an original idea," he said before turning to the guards and declaring formally.

"Pursuant to paragraph 1359, subsection e, I request to parley with Lady Greengrass in order to bargain for my life," he informed them while the guards looked at him warily.

"Finished with that, have you?" the male asked, glancing at the huge book.

"I didn't need it, human. Every goblin knows the entire treaty by heart," he informed the man. "Although it felt good to waste your time today. I hear humans have only limited time in this world… that must be awful for you," he said mockingly and the guards looked ready to kill him as they ordered him to stand up so they could place shackles on him.

Griphook complied, standing up and turning to Hermione for the final time. "I suggest you read the treaty yourself, Miss Granger," he told her while randomly flipping the pages of the thick book for emphasis. "It might help put your pitiful struggle against those of your own kind into perspective," he told her and Hermione could have sworn he winked at her at the end.

And then he was put in chains and the guards escorted slash dragged him away.

Hermione remained seated for a long while, with countless thoughts running through her head. It was clear to her there would be no alliance between muggleborns and goblins in the future.

And yet…

Hermione turned the book around on the table and read the page Griphook had opened for her earlier, seemingly at random so as not to arouse the guards' suspicion.

She kept her face completely impassive in case someone was spying on her. But even as she was reading, Hermione Granger felt happy inside for the first time in months.