Full Summary: A dark and twisted tale with a pinch of comedy and buckets full of: hate, sex, anger, love, betrayal, lust, pain, deception, angst, blood, revenge, torture, mystery, nausea… Now, the Dark Lord requires only one element. One Death Eater that IS perfection. No emotion, no pain, no regret, strength, obedience, and most importantly without a heart. She, a tool for that Death Eater to become perfection, comes into play just as their 7th year at Hogwarts is about to begin. And all too soon there is no good or evil, only the choices inbetween. By me and the one & only, RootbeerFloat! (Warning: Rated M for EXPLICIT content, violence, and profanity)

A/N (Frayed-hope): Hey everybody! This is MY first Harry Potter fanfiction and first collaboration, so please do Amy (RootbeerFloatShallPrevail- which I am sure most of you know as RootbeerFloat) and me a favor and review when you have read each chapter of Into the Wind. There will be replies to reviews at the beginning of the next chapter. And just to clarify before hand, character's thoughts are portrayed in italics. I thank you for reading this announcement, and enjoy the first chapter.

A/N (RootbeerFloatShallPrevail): Hello everyone, and welcome to our story Into The Wind! This is Amy, AKA RootbeerFloat. I used to have an account called RootbeerFloat and RootbeerFloatResurrected. I've held the record with the most reviews in Harry Potter history with 4,800 and something, before my account got deleted for no reason. And now I have teamed up with the famous (or should I say infamous) frayed-hope to bring you this compelling novel! (Everyone knows Sarah, AKA frayed-hope's the better author, but she won't admit it, and she better not delete this part of the A/N. lol.) I was very honored when she came to me. We're taking a plot that's been used and making it into something new, hip, and interesting. AND NOT CLICHÉ. We despise clichés. I'm writing Draco's side of it, and she's writing Hermione's…well most of the time, occasionally we might switch off, or work completely together on a chapter. In my opinion, that works better that way because I can't get into Hermione's character as much as Draco's. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review! If you would like to read my stories, my penname now is: RootbeerFloatShallPrevail. On my bio is a link to my stories that were deleted! HAVE FUN! Apple Hugs And Vanilla Kisses!

Disclaimers: RootbeerFloatShallPrevial and Frayed-Hope do NOT own anything but the plot of this story, and possibly a few new characters, objects, places, and spells later on.

NOTICE: This chapter has been revised, edited, and CHANGED. Not only has an approximate 450 some words been added, but the writing style (aka Sarah's writing style) has changed …somewhat. So please feel free to reread the chapters that have this notice!

Innocently Trapped

-Chapter 1-

Like grains of sand tossed roughly into the wind, or pebbles dropped into a stream, she felt trapped. The sand destined to wherever the wind blows, the pebbles destined to wherever water flows, for her heartless father was the element trapping her. Not her actual father but her stepfather, who had "accidentally" taken the life of her mom. Of course, he was drunk so he can't recall plunging the broken, glass beer bottle into his new wife, Emily Granger's side then stabbing a kitchen knife into the once warm and sheltering depths of her heart.

They had only been married a total of four months and two weeks before Andrew had innocently murdered Hermione's mom. Or so thought the law and justice of the court. They had tried Andrew Klertain for murder, and somehow or another he got away with only a fine for drunk driving; and thus, this was due to a few mere persuasions. The FACTS: One, there were no witnesses. Two, he was drunk. Three, he had fabricated that all he ordered was soda, and insisted somebody had spiked it. Four, being a highly thought of lawyer and supposedly never cheating or lying, at least not straight out to the judge anyways, definitely helped his position. And therefore, the judge finally found Andrew to be… innocent.

The only person that knows Andrew to be a killer, besides Emily Granger, who is currently resting in her coffin, remains Hermione. She had known for a fact that he had an occasional drink every so often to relieve some of the stress from those 'oh so intense' cases at work. She also knew that his temper would increasingly rise once he consumed a single drop of intoxicating alcohol, much like a rather severe side effect. Obviously Hermione put two and two together and came to the unfortunate conclusion; her sweet, old step dad had deprived her from the loving arms of her last living parent, forever.

Ever since the morning when Hermione resolved that her mother was intentionally killed from watching the local news, to this day, two weeks before her seventh year at Hogwarts, Andrew has been … well, you'll find out soon enough. He blames her for the death of Emily, and constantly beats her with what is beginning to be his trademark torture devise, the always handy, broken beer bottles. These pain-inflicting colored glasses, some with the toxic substance still in them, littered the kitchen and piled in the corners of almost every room. Shattered glass covered some sections of the floor like a thick rainforest canopy.

"Oh Mioneee, dear! Come make papa breakfast…" No audible answer. "Hermione! Get your sorry ass over here and make me breakfast, NOW!" Demanded Andrew in a disgustingly creepy and menacing tone that undoubtedly came naturally for him. This was his way of saying 'you either do as I say, or get it'.

"Coming!" Hermione immediately answered as she rushed towards the kitchen in bare feet, trailing a thin line of liquid. She glanced at her feet and at the glass tips sticking out, signaling the glass pieces to be embedded deep within her flesh; such is the result of stepping on the shards repeatedly, making them sink further into her scarlet-blanketed feet. Not really giving notice to the dull pain snaking its way up her ankles, she made strong eye contact with Andrew. And so began a whole new day, with a whole new, or rather renewed, bravery.

"Good morning, sir." She said in a tone dripping with sarcasm. She knew she shouldn't be behaving this way, but she refused to be treated like some animal, a slave at that, even if she couldn't physically do anything about it. She had not lost her witty mind, her courageous spirit, or her fighting soul; all in all, she figured she had nothing to worry about as long as she could get away from the monster as soon as possible, get food, mend her injuries, and stay safe until school starts.

"Don't you be snotty with me, girl," he picked up a piece of glass and jabbed her arm before Hermione even had a chance to register the threat, "Or our little playtime will be extend. As for breakfast," he mused and eyed her dangerously, "lightly salted scrambled eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice with lots of lemon juice added, one piece of toast with light butter, and a freshly baked blueberry muffin. And let me warn you, if anything goes wrong, if you dare to try to sneak something in my food again, if that orange juice is bitter-"

Her eyes flashed with loathing as she pulled the piece of bottle from her arm and gazed at the blood trickling down from the gash in rather thick streams. Her stomach did a slight flip out of starvation and a sickening feeling swept over her as warm scarlet rolled across her arm. Food. She needed food. Hermione hadn't eaten in two days. She looked up and answered him while glaring at him in the eyes. "Yes, of course. Coming right up." Your wish is my command, you bloody bastard, what do I look like to you, a fucking genie in a bottle? She thought sourly. She gave him the best fake smile she could muster and spun on her heels, heading to the kitchen.

"Oh, and sweetheart, no magic remember; wouldn't want you overusing your gift now would we? Certainly that old fool of a headmaster of yours would be very disappointed in your expulsion." Andrew announced. Hermione rolled her eyes and growled in anger as she thought, Old fool? Dumbledore? That's a real bloody laugh, if anyone around here is an old fool it's you. And you're so much more than that; you're a fucking madman!

Not quite gracing the description of a madman, Andrew was a wizard working as a muggle lawyer, for he could always "persuade" the client into giving him more money than truly necessary. More like conjure up a little spell to make them cough up their wallets, Hermione thought with a snort. He would never leave the muggle world and return to his homeland. Why? The answer can be simply stated as this: since he was as greedy and stubborn a man as could ever be imagined, he fancied where he lived and the monetary power that it accompanied oh so sweetly.

"As always, you're right." Muttered Hermione. When will he ever realize it's one thing to break my body, but it's another to break my heart? Come on Hermione, you're not the smartest witch in your class, heck even generation, for nothing! You will flee, find food and shelter, and then… and then. She smiled to herself. School! I just, I just know I can't do this, play this sick game of his, much longer. I need a way out… Hermione thought as she started her usual task of cooking breakfast. She began to think up escape plans and tried desperately not to think of the past couple weeks at his mercy, just the image of the Hogwarts castle and what academic accomplishments the future would hold.

Ms. Granger was not paying attention to the job at hand, and proceeded to butter the charred toast, all the while reflecting on her changed life. She finished and slapped it onto the plate along side the eggs and blueberry muffin. Looking around quickly she snatched a slice of bread and stuffed it into her mouth, swallowing with a hard gulp. For everything she had survived through, she certainly was not going to let herself die of starvation. Grabbing a quick sip of water, she started on her task of squeezing oranges. Once again, she lost focus and let precisely two seeds into the juice concoction.

"Hurry it up! I want that meal hot and ready by the time I get down there!" Yelled Andrew. About five minutes later he was in the dining hall with his briefcase, sitting and strumming his fingers expectantly. "I have an important case today, unfortunately not your execution trial for Emily's death," he sneered jesterly, "but it is important none the less... damn mudblood, HURRY UP! I told you to have it ready minutes ago!"

"Coming!" She responded in a monotone voice. She emerged through the entrance to the dining room, carrying a plate full of food and a tall glass of lemon mixed orange juice, the thought had slipped her mind to add sugar to make it less bitter. She placed the food in front of him and waited for his sly voice to mark her next orders.

"What are you doing? Leave me in peace you filthy mut." She had a diminutive trace of a smile at the fact that she circumvented a thrashing this morning. Must be a very important case. On the way to her room she could have sworn she heard him say 'Not very bright, but certainly a decent slut'. Her smile slid from her features. I have to get away.

Dammit Hermione, why are you so slow to react these days? You're slowly dying and with each attempt you've made, you only grow weaker and Andrew smarter. My pride has long since left; only traces of the dignity and innocence I once held so highly have been left to rot in this corpse of a body with a fading soul. My last chance at saving myself from the life of a household whore for him lies in escaping and hiding until school starts again.

School starts in two weeks so why haven't I received any sort of notification from Dumbledore yet? Surely I made head girl, I mean, I do get the top grades in the entire school, and have been since first year. I wonder if I'll even make it to Hogwarts, I just... I know I've lost a lot of blood over the weeks, and as much as I hate to admit it, some of my bravery's gone too. That man made me so fucking paranoid. Half the time I sleep in a pool of blood or tears but I just can't bring myself to believe that I, Hermione Granger, am now checking around every corner and jumping at mere shadows. He's taken everything from me but my intelligence... My mind may go hazy at times but it's certainly more stable than Ron's ever was. She sighed heavily. I'm such a mess. He did this to me, and not just me, he had to first kill mum. I just need, I need to break from his crushing hold. Once he leaves for his big case I'll make a break for it and by the time his spells warn-

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted, "Oh Hermione, darling please come here a second." His words were civil but his tone aggravated. Great. Just absolutely wonderful, he's either going to make me to do something degrading or beat the hell out of me; but what the fuck? I didn't even do anything wrong. But as her conscience tried to reason with her body telling her not to go, blood-trailing feet were carrying her to where he was. Shit, don't go to him! Hermione! You dumbass, what are you doing?? She soon arrived at the side of the seething man who was twisting a lock of his slick brown hair viciously.

"Trying to slip mistakes past me, huh bitch? Think you'd get away with it?!" Andrew warned. "I don't think so." He had a bottle hidden behind him. He swiftly swung and broke it on her shoulder. The liquid rushed out, exposing its razor sharp edges. Hermione's eyes cringed shut, Not again… she choked back a sob, she knew what was coming.

Aiming to get away, she ran and abruptly tripped, a new piece of glass appeared, wedged into her foot at such an angle that it collided with bone and simply wouldn't sink any further. She scrambled, trying to stand up and run but only managed a few feet before he snatched her neck and shoved her against the kitchen counter-top. He tightened his grip to stop her thrashing. Suddenly, her face was slammed down on the corner of the table and Andrew jerked Hermione into a position that immobilized both her arms and legs.

Ripping off her blouse, he used one hand to take a sliver of glass and cut a deep line from the side of her neck to the opposite shoulder blade. Hermione groaned. Meanwhile, Andrew's other hand dangerously traced the hem of her shorts and without warning, promptly forced three masculine fingers into her warm core. A mix of terror and sheer pain escaped her bleeding lip in a muffled scream. He laughed, oh how he loved it when she screamed. "Next time, mudblood, I won't be as forgiving." And with that he withdrew his hand and, for his final move, poured the lemon-orange juice over her wounded back. Hermione's chocolate-colored eyes fluttered and rolled back into her head as her weak whimpering came to a halt.

S-S-some… bod.. elp mm.. Then all went black, peacefully yet painfully pitch black.

A/N (Both of Us): So, watcha think? Tell us in a nice long review! We both will appreciate it! Thank you for reading the first chapter, and we hope you'll follow up on this story.