Disclaimer: All Characters and things associated with Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. This writing is purely for entertainment only.

Summary: Harry died in the Forbidden Forest and Ron and Hermione must find a way to finish his mission in a world where Hermione and her blood status leaves them both in incredible danger.

Chapter 13

Draco had arranged for a carriage from the Ministry to Malfoy Manor but not before binding Hermione's hands together with thin magical shakles. Apparently, Umbridge had not seen Hermione as a threat but Draco was a little more cautious with her.

He sat Hermione across from him in the carriage and smirked while she straightened herself up in her seat, avoiding eye contact with the Slytherin at all costs. She would not let him see how afraid she was for whatever he had planned for her.

The carriage began moving and the sound of the wheels turning was all Hermione focused on, trying to keep her mind occupied and her eyes away from Draco.

"You'll have to look at me at some point, Granger. You're mine now," Draco eventually spoke.

Hermione turned slowly to glare at him. "You're foul."

Draco's lips twitched into a smirk. "There's that rebellious mudblood I knew was still in there. Umbridge said you seemed broken but I know you better then that. This will be fun."

"Why don't you just kill me now? It would save so much time," Hermione responded.

Instantly, Draco's smile faded and he straightened his suit out, looking out the window as they approached Malfoy Manor. "You're far too valuable for that, Granger."

Hermione's brain went in a million directions, trying to figure out what Draco meant by his words but decided that ultimately it didn't really matter.

The carriage stopped and Draco pushed Hermione out so that she landed face down on the concrete stones in front of the mansion.

"Get up," Draco stepped over her and when she didn't respond quick enough he grabbed her by her shoulders and yanked her to her feet.

Draco pushed Hermione into the front door of the mansion and once they were inside the magical shakles around Hermione's wrist disappeared. She assumed she was no longer a threat now that they were in the house.

Hermione looked around, her body shaking a bit in reaction to being back at Malfoy Manor, back where Bellatrix had nearly tortured her to death. The manor still feel cold, but was much more decorated than she recalled. She wondered if the Malfoy's had now established themselves again as a family held in high regard.

"Let's go," Draco ordered.

Reluctantly, Hermione followed him into the grand sitting room of the manor where both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were sitting on two large couches. Both looked up when Draco and Hermione entered and a large grin made its way across Lucius' face at the sight of Hermione.

"Why, Draco, when you said you were going to pick up a new little mudblood I certainly didn't think it would be Potter's little wench," Lucius grinned madly. "How lucky we are to have the most prized of all Mudbloods."

Hermione glared at Lucius as he slowly moved closer to her until he was toe to toe with her.

"I still see the defiance in her...that we will have to break," Lucius ran a hand through Hermione's hair, causing her to recoil at his touch and at the same time wonder if his touch was something she would be forced to get used to.

She wouldn't get used to it. If Lucius touched her she would do anything and everything she could to end one of their lives as quickly as possible, she decided.

Lucius turned his attention to Draco now. "I will be traveling North for a week to have some words with the Giants for the Dark Lord. You are to make sure things are tended to here."

"Certainly," Draco nodded at his father though Hermione could hear a hint of distain in his voice and she quickly recalled how Draco had buried the student at Hogwarts. Something about Draco seemed different.

"Take her upstairs to get cleaned up. She may be a mudblood but our help certainly isn't filthy," Lucius told Draco.

Again, Draco nodded, and without another word he grabbed Hermione, startling her from her thoughts, and dragged her up the grand staircase and into a large lavatory.

Draco flung Hermione across the prestifng white tile of the room and it didn't escape Hermione how dirty her hands and jeans looked against the beautiful stone.

"Strip," Draco commanded.

Hermione looked up in shock at him. "What?"

"Strip. Clothes off, Granger," Draco ordered Hermione again, no emotion in his voice as he starred down at her now shaking form.

Ron sat at the table at Shell Cottage, anger etched into his face. He had gotten nowhere the night before, his brother and sister firmly believing Hermione was as good as dead. Ron knew better though. Hermione was strong and capable. If he could just find her he knew he could save her.

Everyone else had gone to bed at some point, but Ron couldn't bring himself to sleep and so he sat in the kitchen chair, gazing out at the moonlit beach until the moonlight faded and the early morning sun took its place.

And that was when Neville came into the kitchen.

Ron glanced up to see his friend but said nothing. Neville had not said much the night before but he also hadn't sounded eager to help Ron either.

"Did you sleep at all, Ron?" Neville asked.

Ron just shook his head, his jaw set firmly.

Neville nodded and took a seat across from Ron. "I understand why you are upset..."

Ron's eyes twitched to meet Neville's. "I'm not upset, I'm angry...and I am going to get Hermione back, whether anyone wants to help me or not."

"It's not that we don't want to help it's just that we know that it's going to be near impossible to get Hermione back. You don't understand what things are like out there-"

"I do. We went to Hogwarts...I saw what is happening...I saw what those bloody Pureblood families were doing to the girls they had working for them. I know damn well what will happen to Hermione if I don't find her and I refuse to let it." Ron said squarely.

Neville leaned back in his chair saying nothing as Ginny and George moved into the room. Clearly they had been listening.

"So you did go to Hogwarts?" Ginny asked.

Ron nodded at his sister. "I saw Mum..."

A small look of hope crossed Ginny's features.

"Dad's dead," Ron added quickly and watched the hope fade instantly from Ginny's face. Ron decided not to explain how Mr. Weasley died, believing Ginny would only blame him and Hermione. And in the end, did it even matter why he died? The point was he was gone.

"Mum is okay though?" George spoke now, as if Ron's words about their father had hardly registered, only showing how numb they had all become to loss.

"Good as you'd expect. She's bound to the castle..." Ron said.

"We knew that..." George nodded simply.

"Did you get the sword?" Ginny asked, also compartmentalizing her father's death.

Ron shook his head. "No sword...and no fangs. They took them all out of the Chamber."

George merely shrugged. "Can't say I'm shocked by that."

"We need the sword. That's the most important thing," Ginny said.

Ron shook his head quickly, the anger humming back through him. "No, Hermione is the most important thing-"

"Hermione is as food as dead, Ron. Get over it," Ginny told him.

Ron was on his feet in seconds, his large frame towering over his sister though she barely seemed to flinch. "What the hell happened to you?"

"A war, Ron. A war we are still fighting...and I won't compromise that mission for anyone...not anymore," Ginny told him.

"You just want to avenge Harry! This has nothing to do with a war anymore!" Ron accused.

"And all you care about is Hermione! She was taken Ron...she was murdered or sold! Either way she is gone, so get over it and get angry and help us!" Ginny yelled back before storming out of the house.

George sighed but followed his sister out the door, hoping to calm her down and leaving Ron alone with Neville at the table.

"She doesn't mean to be so cold, Ron. It's just...we've seen a lot over the last few months. We've all come to terms with the fact that any of us could die or be caught at any moment." Neville explained.

"I understand," Ron said.

"I don't think you do. You've only just come back out of hiding...you've barely been exposed to the things we've seen...the things we've done over the last few months..."

"So what am I supposed to do? Just forget about Hermione because you've all seen bad things happen?"

Neville shook his head. "No...no of course not...but you have to understand that we might not be able to save her, assuming she is still alive. Likely we won't. She's probably the most sought after Muggleborn there is."

"I have to try," Ron said, unable to hide the desperation in his voice. The thought of never seeing Hermione again was something he refused to wrap his head around.

Neville sighed, as if he were struggling internally to speak. After a long moment, he seemed to choose his words carefully. "There are some families who have been given the chance to take on servents as they call them...and they don't necessarily care about them. Some I even think only take them to please Voldemort...those families can be persuaded to part with their servents, for a price. If Hermione ended up with any of those families I may be able to help. I meet with a few of them who are willing to negotiate with me to release some of their servents. I was able to get Hannah Abbott out last month from the Parkinson family."

"Well then lets meet with them. I'll pay any price...anything for Hermione," Ron said quickly, suddenly feeling a small sense of hope since he had been separated from Hermione.

Neville nodded. "I meet with them next week."

"Can't we meet sooner?" Ron asked, the thought of leaving Hermione with a Pureblood family, knowing full well what was happening to most of the female servents, was something that made him sick to his stomach.

"It's not in my control, Ron. This is the best shot we've got...maybe the only shot," Neville said.

Ron sighed in frustration but knew he had no choice then to take Neville up on his offer for help, which meant we would have to wait the long week.

When Hermione did not respond to Draco's command her kicked her foot and circled her form on the lavatory floor.

"Did you not hear me? Strip down now, Granger," Draco ordered a third time.

Again, Hermione did not respond. The thought of being naked in front of Draco, for letting him see her so vulnerable was something her mind simply could not comprehend and so her body did not react.

Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance and yanked Hermione to her feet. She went stiff at his touch.

"If you won't take them off, I will," Draco threatened.

Hermione was registering his words, but again she didn't move. She just stared at Draco wondering what he would actually do if she continued to defy him. She realized it didn't matter, she was trapped but she certainly didn't have to go down easy.

Realizing Hermione was not going to listen Draco snorted to himself, shaking his head and then, in one swift motion of his wand, stripping Hermione of all of her clothing.

The cold air hitting Hermione's bare skin caused her to yelp a bit as she tried desperately to cover her personal parts with her hands. Immediately she felt humiliated, standing there in front of Draco in the nude. She diverted her eyes to the ground.

Draco took a step toward her and Hermione backed up, gasping a bit in a mix of fear and embarassment. She wondered what Draco would do as he stepped forward, wondering if she could fend him off if she really needed to. Her mind raced to what she knew had become the fate of so many other Muggleborns in her situation and wondered, even if she fought Draco off now, if it would even matter if this was now her fate.

To her surprise, however, Draco's hand came into her line of vision holding a simple bar of soap. She found this odd, so despite her embarrassment she did look up at Draco to find his eyes looking away from her as if he was just as uncomfortable as she was to have her standing naked in front of him.

"Clean yourself up, will you? I'll conjure some clean clothes for you," Draco said, his eyes still diverted away from her as he dropped the bar of soup in her hand and moved out of the room without another word.

The second she was alone, the wave of tears hit Hermione like a tsunami and she sank to the floor, naked and hysterical. She cried for her situation, for losing Ron, and even a bit for the fact that, for the moment, she seemed safe with Draco. It was all too much to handle.