Title: Death is only the start of a new life.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you may recognize from Rowling's books.

Warning: Character death

Summary: The war has finally ended, and the Dark Side has won. Hogwarts has fallen into Lord Voldemort's hands, and the few people that survived are waiting for their faith to be decided. Among them is Hermione Granger.

A/N: Seeing as I've currently given up on PEP, I thought I'd try and write my first one-shot. I've got no clue how it turned out, but hopefully it isn't to bad.

Yes, and one more thing. One of my readers pointed out that I'm wrong when I claim that Hitler was half Jewish. I'm sorry for my mistake. I should have done some better research, but done is done, but at least now you all know that it's wrong.

The war had ended dramatically at the end of the Trios last year. Voldemort’s forces had grown the last two years, and the Ministry Aurors hadn’t stood a chance when the Death Eaters had attacked on Christmas Eve. Cornelius Fudge had been the first to die. He had been in the Ministry when the Death Eaters had broken through the wards, but upon seeing Lord Voldemort standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall, he’d passed out in fear. Once he finally woke up he had found himself on the floor with Voldemort’s wand pointing directly at his heart. Before he had been able to utter a single word, Voldemort had pronounced the Killing Curse and the Ministry of Magic was left on the floor dead.

They had invaded Hogwarts two months later. The castle had been able to resist for two weeks until the defence broke down. Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter had been fighting in the front line along with the rest of the teachers and the 7th years. When Voldemort appeared in the Great Hall, Harry had immediately made his way over to the Dark Lord. They both knew they had to finish the duel, once and for all.

The duel had lasted for half an hour before Voldemort was able to penetrate Harry’s shield, and the Boy-Who-Lived fell to the ground dead. Dumbledore had been distracted once he saw Harry fall, and Lucius Malfoy had been able to cast the killing curse, ending the older wizard’s life.

Hermione Granger was on of the few survives that had gotten through the battle in nearly one piece. Over half the students had been killed, except from the Slytherins, who had joined the Death Eaters as soon as they broke through the wards surrounding the castle. Nearly all the Huffelpuffs had fallen, and over half of the Ravenclaws. The Gryffindores had probably had the biggest loss of students, but some had survived.

The ones that had survived had been locked up in the dungeon in Riddle Manor, awaiting their execution. They looked like a bunch of muggle dossiers. Dressed in rags, covered with filth, and their skin was a sickly colour that made them looking like zombies.

Hermione looked out through the bars of her cell and shuddered. She was sitting in a corner, legs drawn up to her chest, and her arms were resting on her knees. She was tired, tired of living, tired of seeing her friends being murdered in front of her, tired of sitting in a corner of the cell waiting for death to come and claim her.

She was beyond the point of hoping that the whole thing was a bad dream, and that she would wake up soon and find that everything was normal. She was going to die and she knew it. It was just a matter of time.

Death didn’t really scare her. It was unavoidable. Everyone was going to die sooner or later she had always known that. Of course, she’d hoped she would be older than seventeen when the day came, but there was nothing she could do about that now. Lord Voldemort wasn’t exactly known for sparing lives, at least not mudbloods.

Death was just another great adventure, which was only waiting to be explored, and whatever that laid beyond the life she had now, it surely would be a better one.

A piercing scream ripped through the silence in the dungeon followed by Avada Kedavra. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. That was one step closer to her death. She briefly wondered who it had been. But quickly gave up. It was no point. They would all die.

The Death Eaters tortured some to death, other got a simple Avada Kedavra and then it was all over. She hoped she would get the easy way out.

The sound of footsteps made her open her eyes again and she looked up as Lucius Malfoy stepped into the dim light in the cell and looked down at her.

“On your feet, mudblood!” he spat, and Hermione rose carefully. Keeping her eyes on the man at all-times. He grabbed her by her arm and dragged her through the dark corridor and up the stairs.

As they entered the throne room he threw her down on the floor and stepped into the circle of Death Eaters that now was surrounding the Gryffindor. Hermione looked up and realised she was in the main room in the Manor, or the throne room. A few torches were lightning up the room a bit, but it was impossible to decide exactly what the room looked like. The one thing she did notice was the high throne like chair that was placed in the middle of the room. Other than the chair it seemed like the room had been stripped of all the furnishings.

The dark figure on the throne had his hood up, but she could still feel the cold red eyes looking at her from the darkness.

“Hermione Granger,” he hissed slowly and stood.

Hermione raised her head in defiance and got up on her feet.

“Lord Voldemort,” she said and nodded her head. She had never met him in person, but she had seen him during the battle. The red eyes were cold and hard, showing no emotions except hate, and Hermione found herself fascinated by them. Fascinated by the man, and curious about how he had tuned into a cold-hearted murder.

“Such a clever young witch,” he said with a hint of amusement in his voice, “it’s such a shame you’re not a pureblood. You would have been a great asset to my ranks.”

“I would never have joined you,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest

“No? Not even for the sake of knowledge?” he watched the thoughtful expression that darted across her beautiful face. She was curious no one could deny that. She had always valued knowledge, not only knowledge about the so-called ‘light side’, but also about the ‘dark side’. No one knew that of course, not even Harry or Ron. That was something she had kept all to herself.

“I can see it in your eyes,” he said and walked around her, “You have always loved your previous books. But you’ve been a naughty girl haven’t you? What good did you think there would come of you reading books about dark spells?” the voice was still soft and Hermione felt her self relax.

“I just wanted to know,” she said.

“It is a shame,” he repeated, “you would have done great.”

“Do you have any interest in Muggle history?” she asked, looking him directly in the eyes.

If he was confused by the question then he didn’t show it.

“I’ve read about it, yes,” he answered, wondering where she was going with the question.

“Do you remember Hitler?” he nodded and she continued, “He was half Jewish, but he still tried to eliminate all the Jews. Though, he wasn’t able to do so. You can’t get rid of one group of people just because you think they’re unworthy to be allowed to live. Beside there aren’t enough pureblood families in the world to carry on the Wizarding world. You need fresh blood. Nearly every family is already related to one another, think about how it will be years from now.”

The short speech left everyone in silence, and Hermione was standing in the middle looking at the Dark Lord. It was easy to see the fear in her eyes, but there was also something else, something that the sorting hat had seen in her all those years ago when she first was introduced to the Wizarding World.

“Gryffindor courage,” he sneered, “How dare you tell me what to do.”

I’m going to die anyway, so why not, Hermione thought sarcastically, but she said nothing.

“I’m going to die,” she said with sigh, “and I refuse to cower before you like some scared kid. I may be a mudblood, but I’ve beaten the scores of every pureblood wizard and witch in Hogwarts. My grades equal the ones you had! So I might be just a lowlife mudblood, but I still out-rank most kids my age when it come to knowledge!”

The Death Eaters started to whisper angrily and some raised their wand, but Voldemort stopped them.

“So, you don’t fear death then?” he asked.

“No I don’t. At least then I’ll be with my friends and family, the ones you’ve killed. Death is just another mystery, waiting to be solved.”

He nodded in understanding and raised in wand, “Very well, have it your way. Avada Kedavra!”

A flash of green light hit her in the chest and she fell to the ground. The Death Eaters cheered and laughed, but Voldemort silenced them.

“Get out!” he ordered and watched them Apparate. He needed to think. The girl’s words had been true, he had to admit that. She was right about many things, and her last words were still ringing in his head.

“Death is only the start of a new life!”