A/N: STOP! Sensitive topic up ahead along with strong violence. Caution before reading!

The letter crumbled and coward against the fire. It turned black and fell into a mound of ashes on the table. She stared at it coldly. The fear, the anxiety, the doubts and the regrets were gone. Her heart was empty. It was hallow. It was not because she felt cold towards Draco. She was leaving everything behind: her friends and the memories of where she grew up. She was leaving a world where it was burning and crashing to protect herself. How Slytherin-ish of her. She blanched at the thought. The Hermione she once knew herself as was one with courage and bravery; one where she would fight ‘till death. That Hermione disappeared once she was with Draco. It was all about protecting herself. That tore her heart. Her own disappointment in herself just ripped her heart to pieces. She leaned forward, feeling an unnatural stir in her insides as she was going to vomit it all out. She had to take deep breaths just like Draco taught her. His voice rang in her ears,

Love, breath in and out. You can’t stress yourself out. Little Scrop is in there. When you stress out, he does too.”

Hermione nodded as if he was there with her. She placed her hand over her little bulge. She breathed in and out deeply and heavily. The nerves in her slowly disappeared, washing away. Staring up at the ceiling, she realized something. Her eyes widened. Her mind screamed, Kinsley and Dean!

She had to do something, anything. She at least needed to set them free. She snatched her wand and headed out the room and down the stairs into the common room. Silence loomed like the silence before the storm, eerie and warning. Off the side of the grand stairs was a little wooden door tucked in the corner and slightly dark because no light reached there. When she opened it, it creaked and she immediately shuddered. She stepped in. It was freezing, dark and moist. A low torch blazed on and she jerked with fear. She took each stone step carefully with her hands against the decaying, moist brick walls to help guide her as each torch lit one by one.

“Whose there?” came a voice echoing up.

Hermione slammed herself against the wall, inching down.

“I said whose there?” the voice came again.

Another voice came, “Algernon, just have a look, you fucking blabbering idiot.”

She heard shuffle of the feet and there came Algernoon with wide eyes once he saw her. She shot a silencing spell then a stunning. She was too quick for the blabbering idiot, she even use a levitation charm to slowly place him on the ground softly. She knew the other was listening intently as she went down the stairs fast, but in soft steps. The man appeared, almost popping out of the darkness and she waved her wand several times until he was peacefully on the floor. With several steps, she saw a long hallways filled with cells. The bars were amber with rust and the hallway was barely lit by the one torch off the right. Next to the torch was a hook with a set of keys. She made sure to grab those just in case.

“Minister Shacklebolt?” whispered Hermione as it echoed down the hall. She still called him Minister as he was the rightful owner to the position. She took a step as she heard a drop of water drip. “Minister Shacklebolt? Kingsley?” She was passing one of the cells and felt fingers wrapped around her leg. She squeaked, aiming her wand at the hand.

“Don’t…” a voice croaked. “It’s me…”

“Lumos!” The tip of her wand created a ball of sliver light. She squinted her eyes at the dark person in the cell when she finally realized it was Kingsley. “Minister!” she gasped. She fell to her knees in front. “Let me get you out!” She pointed her wand at the keylock, but Kingsley shook his head, relying the message it is magically locked. She gulped then fiddled with the keys nervously as he just stared at her. Anxiety was getting the best of her as she dropped the ring of keys countless times and missed the keyhole when she tried to jab a key.

“What’s that?” he croaked.

She stopped fiddling and stared into his dead-looking brown eyes. “What?”

A shaky finger came through the bar, his finger poking her tattoo of the Malfoy crest. She gazed at it for a while before she muttered, “I’m a Malfoy.” The little distraction motivated her to move quickly so she wouldn’t be questioned about it anymore.


The locked clicked and she jumped to her feet to swing the door open. Kinsley stepped out, gazing down at her.

“You…you don’t have a wand?” she asked with a mutter.

“No. They broke ours right in front of our faces…”

She nodded. “Where’s Dean?”

Kingsley pointed at the cell next to his. Hermione hurried off, peeking inside the cell. “Dean?” He didn’t answer. “Dean?... DEAN!... Shit!” she whispered shrilly. Fiddling again, she tried to find the key and jabbed a key. It was a match. She ran into the cell, leaning over Dean. He was propped against the wall, his head laid back against it and his mouth slightly agape. “Aguamenti!” Water spurted out of the tip of Hermione’s wand into his face. Dean snorted awake, shakily as Hermione sighed in relief. But he quickly became wild.

“YOU!” he hissed, reaching for her and grabbing her wrist tightly. Hermione squealed with pain.

“DEAN!” boomed Kingsley.

“You’re a traitor,” he growled at Hermione. “With the enemy? I thought he was keeping you prisoner last time I saw you. But you have been fucking him. Does he taste good enough for you to betray your friends like that?”

“Enough!” Kingsley grasped Dean’s wrist, pulling him away from Hermione. Hermione rubbed her wrist, but with every slight touch, it was screaming in pain. She refused to look at either of them, ashamed.

“You should listen to her maybe?” suggested Kingsley wisely. “We both should…”

“I needed protection,” she said meekly. She looked up at their dark face, hidden by the darkness of the dungeons. “I didn’t have anyone to stay with. I didn’t trust anyone… Then, I decided Malfoy…”

“You trusted Malfoy?” Dean spat. “That Death Eater, slithering idiot? You couldn’t trust anyone else, but him?”

Hermione shook her head. “He would give me the best protection…and I knew he would really do it. And he did. I’m still alive… A muggle-born living with the King Death Eater, Lucius himself and still very much alive…”

Kingsley nod could be seen faintly.

“But…but I am leaving soon… Me and Draco aren’t safe here anymore.”

“Draco now is it? Malfoy is safe. Don’t make excuses,” snarled Dean.

Hermione gave a slight humorless chuckle. “Trust me… He isn’t. So, before I left…I had to free you two. I was going to do it eventually, but I—I’m leaving today… I’m so sorry that this happened. That this happened to you two. You were right beneath me, but I couldn’t do anything other than just sit and feel guilty and sorry for myself!”

Hermione began to sob, her shoulders shaking. She could barely breathe. There was so much weight on her heart. This is when she realized she shouldn’t fight Draco anymore. She knew Draco was right. They had to leave. Maybe once in Belgium, she could convince Draco to move to South America or an island with a hut. It seemed more peaceful: the sunlight and the water and to see the sunset on that beautiful horizon every night. She wanted to show her child the beauties of the world. Reality quickly dawned on her as he remember she was in a dingy cell with Dean and Kingsley talking about war. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, looking up at the two.

“Do you have a wand?” she asked Dean weakly.

“They broke mine… We’ll take the goons’ wands…” After a little, Dean croaked, “I’m sorry… I cracked and took it out on you…”

She shook her head. “It’s fine… I wish luck to both of you. Don’t get caught again and keep the resistance moving forward.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

“Away,” she replied quickly.

He nodded, knowing not to press on.

“If you could do me a favor, tell Reeves I left the country… I’ll try to get in contact with him when I can… I know you two have more contact with him.”

“Yes, I do,” answered Kingsley, his voice now the usual crisp. “Good luck to you too, Ms. Gran—Mrs. Malfoy?”

Hermione nodded with a small smile. “Yes, Mrs. Malfoy.”

He nodded his official good-bye politely. Kingsley and Dean quickly left as she slowly headed out. As she was passing the first cells, she noticed a dark face in the cell opposite of Kingsley. She back tracked, peering in the cell. She squinted and finally exclaimed, “Farrow?”

He grumbled something incoherent.

Fiddling with the keys yet again, he began to speak to her. “What are you doing?” he asked with a croak.

“I can’t leave you here like this,” she replied. “They’ll let you rot in this place.”

“I kidnapped you…”

She stopped fiddling to look at his face. “So, you did…” His face became sober, but slightly was left surprised when she continue to find a key to match the keyhole of his cell.

“But yet you still are saving me… That’s what you do… You save people…” He nodded thoughtfully.

Finally, an unclick and the cell bar door swung open with a creak. “Farrow,” Hermione whispered. “Good luck to you…”

He looked down at her and whispered something before he left, “He’s in love with you.”

Hermione grinned with tears in her eyes. “I know.”

She watched his shadow disappeared, but shortly she heard a boom and a crash. She sprinted up the stairs, in a frantic panic. Her head pounded at the thought of Kingsley or Dean on the floor dead, with eyes wide open. She slammed the door open at the top of the stairs to see Lucius Malfoy cold, deadly eyes piercing her. Her legs wobbled and her mouth went dry. He began to nod with a smirk which sent chills over her body. It’s the same smirk as Draco except this wasn’t one of amusement. He tutted at Hermione with a shake of the head and his smirk still well defined on his lips.

“Now, now,” he scolded amusedly. “You let our prisoners go…” His lips curled upward to a more defined smirk as Lucius stepped off to the side. Farrow was on the floor, dead. He was blacked, he was burnt to a crisp. “This one had intentions of running away rather remaining loyal and returning to me… Where is Draco?”

Hermione was speechless.

He nodded as if she had answered. “I had enough of you. And as of right now…there is only you and I…in this entire Manor…just you and I…I and you… Do you see where this is going, girly?”

No answer.

“You should have left when I gave you an opportunity to do so. But you did not… Now, you are in this situation… What kind of situation you asked?” Hermione was speechless so she didn’t even ask, but he answer his own question anyway, “A situation that calls for punishment…for everything you have done. From the time you were betrothed to my son to the time you dare yell at me at my meeting to the time you stepped in to protect my wife. There was a more important time than all those… When you defied my wishes and married my son. Oh,” he chuckled, “and now this, my dear girl. It is time for payment… Crucio!

The wand was pointed at her and she fell to the ground with thud. She was trembling, twitching, jerking as if she was having a seizure. Her body was on fire, burning and scorching, being burnt with pain. It was like little needles were stabbing every inch of her body over and over. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe as she was drowning and as if a rope tightening around her throat. It was like her insides were being ripped out of her. She felt like she was dying. She wanted nothing more, but to die at that moment then feel the pain assaulting her body. But it left. Just like that. Her chest was rising up high and down low as she gasped breath, but moreover the freedom from the pain.


It happened again. It was cycle: pain—relief—pain—relief until she was sobbing at both stages, screaming out for Draco; her calling ringing in the Manor. Relief came and she only heard his footsteps and her sobs. She laid for what seems like hours without any pain and she knew it was gone…or so she thought. Shakily, she lifted herself onto her feet and began to stumble to her room, her breath ragged. There was still a slight lingering pain in the pit of her stomach as she laid her hands over it. She staggered into her bathroom and glanced at the mirror. She did a double-take. Dark spots stained her jean as she began to gasp frantically. She touched the spot. It was her worst nightmare. It was blood. Blood… She knew at that moment she had a miscarriage.

A/N: GUUYYYSSS! I don’t mean to be mean, but I’M SORRY! So many of you were excited about her pregnancy, but this has been planned since Chapter 1 (literally). =/ Please R&R?

P.S.- Merlin, I know about updating, but validation times are not in my favor LOL BUT it’s okay. Patience is the key.


Track This Story:    Feed

Write a Review

out of 10


Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.

Register Today!