chapter 1 Horibble End

The war was over and she couldn't believe it. Everything they fought for was destroyed.

Hermione Granger was laying on the wet ground, too hurt to move, but still not enough to die. Her eyes were wide open, but not moving. It seemed like she was observing the sky as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. It was completely dark and no stars were seen. A few minutes ago only the lightning of curses and the silvery moon illuminated the Battle field. Screams and yelling could be heard, but now there was almost a complete silence. She could hear conversations and laughing coming from them. From those who were supposed to die in the War.

And she knew it was over and that her life was about to end soon. It was just a matter of time when they would find her and dispose of her.

She would have done it herself if she had her wand. But it was probably laying somewhere, broken in half.

Since the moment one Death Eater took the wand from her, she knew she had no chance in winning or even surviving the battle. But what shocked her the most was how easily the wand was taken from her. He didn't even use magic. While she was sending curses, someone sneaked up behind her and grabbed her arm. She froze in shock and fear and was unable to do anything as her attacker snatched the wand from her and broke it in half in front of her.

Instead of running away, she stood completely still, looking at the man before her. He wore a mask, so she couldn't recognize him. Her pride was stronger than her fear and she waited for the man to kill her, looking straight into his eyes. When he pointed his wand at her, she reflexively closed her eyes and tensed. Then she felt burning pain on her skin. She opened her eyes to look at her body and saw deep scratches all over her arms with blood slowly leaking out of them. Just the sight of it made her sick. She felt the pain all over her body and instantly knew that not only her arms were infected by the spell. Then she heard the man mutter something and the next thing she knew was the blackness. Dark blackness all around her. The Death Eater's laughter sent shivers down her body, but then she heard his footsteps. She could tell he was walking away from her and that made no sense to her. Why didn't he end her life?

Disoriented, she made a step forward and tripped over something. She landed on something soft, warm and wet. She realized it was probably a corpse and she crawled away with a scream.

That was too much for her. Tears she had been holding back the whole time, finally spilled down her cheeks. She blinked a few times, but it was useless. She couldn't see a thing. Panic was slowly overtaking her and her whole body started to shake in fear. She could hear people screaming and fighting, the shouts of Unforgivables, but she couldn't see anything. She knew that the screams of the tortured, the noises of death will stay ringing in her ears until she dies.

She didn't dare to move from the ground and even if she decided to do something, to try to stand up, the wounds on her body made it impossible to. So she stayed where she was, with a small hope inside her that someone would find her and restore her sight.

Moments passed by and no one had came to her. The sounds of a war were slowly disappearing and something illogical inside Hermione told her that the wrong side was winning. She forced herself to lay down on the wet ground, holding back more tears as the realization hit her. She was laying on blood. The body she fell on earlier was wet because of the blood. The ground she was laying on was wet because of the blood. The blood of those who fought for the right thing. Good people.

Even though she could see nothing, the mutilated, burnt and beheaded bodies, hundreds of dead bodies were before her eyes. She could see them clearly in her mind. Their lifeless eyes staring back at her, mocking her, blaming her for not fighting, for just laying on the ground. Blaming her for not being smarter, for being stupid enough to let a Death Eater take her wand.

She could feel the dried blood sticking to her skin, she could feel the fresh warm blood dripping from her wounds, soaking her clothes and hair, she could feel the blood drenched earth beneath her trembling fingers.

Soon there was almost a complete silence.

Hermione could imagine the bodies of the people who are still breathing, but just barely, waiting for death to take them to a better place. Just like she.

The tears were dried on her cheeks, tears she cried over all the people she saw dying, tears she cried because of the fear of what'll happen with her. She felt guilty for still being alive, while others died. She felt guilty because a part of her still wanted to live.

But the other part of her would welcome Death if it came. She would finally be able to rest, without fear, without pain and she would see her friends again.

But what was taking so long then? Are they deciding on the most painful way to kill the survivors?

Then she heard the steps around her and she instantly knew whose steps those were. Forcing her eyes to the direction the footsteps were coming from, she only hoped they would make it quick. But somehow she knew they wouldn't. They were in a good mood, celebrating their victory and they probably wanted some award, some fun.

Hermione was telling herself that she probably looks too disgusting with all the dirt and the blood and that they wouldn't lose their time with her.

And then his cold voice cut through her like a knife: "My faithful followers, the day we all have been waiting has finally come, the day we'll all take the places in society that we deserve, the day we've destroyed those who've opposed us. The day has come that we will finally rule the Wizard World and destroy those who are not worthy to live in it."

The voice was so close to her and she knew he was probably standing only a few meters away.

Shouts of approval erupted from the masked men which caused Hermione to hold her breath and hope they wouldn't notice her.

"As the generous master that I am, I'll reward you for your loyalty, my friends."

Hermione held her breath until she couldn't stand it no longer. She hoped to suffocate herself, but she wasn't brave enough. She wanted to live, she finally admitted to herself.

She wasn't the only one who was still alive. There were other people too. She could hear their erratic breathing, hear their sobs, hear their whimpers and she realized that the same noises were coming from her mouth.

That disgusting voice cut through the silence again:"I'll grant my most loyal followers who have lost their family to my cause the honour to choose their awards first. You're free to do with this scum whatever you please."

Shivers ran down Hermione's spine as she realized what was happening. They were not going to kill the survivors, at least not right away.

Oh god, oh god, oh god...

She tried to pretend that she was dead, but her eyes wouldn't listen to her. No matter how hard she tried, the fear wouldn't let her close them. And her body wouldn't stop shaking no matter how many times she mentally ordered it to stay still.

Then she could hear footsteps around her and laughing.

"No, please, not me..."she heard some girl cry out. She could tell that the girl was pulled up from the ground and was struggling, but only a moment later there was a small 'pop' heard and Hermione realized they've disapparated. Where was she taken? Why was she taken? Was she taken to be a..a slave?

More panic was overtaking her body and then suddenly she felt something. She couldn't excatly tell what it was and how she knew it, but she was certain that someone was looking at her. She tried to calm down and still her breathing, but it was useless.

Only a moment later she felt someone grab her arm and pull her up from the ground soaked with blood.

She struggled to get away, even though she knew she couldn't run anywhere. No words came out of her mouth, which was a surprise. She always knew what to say, but in that moment all she could do was bite her tongue to stop herself from crying and screaming.

"Thisis a girl you choose? With all the blood-traitors you chose a mudblood? As you wish, you may do with her what you want. She is your property from now on,"Voldemort said to the man holding Hermione, a slight disgust in his voice.

Hermione completely froze with shock. She wanted for the person that was gripping her arm to speak, so she could recognize who it was, but he stayed completely quiet.

"Take her and enjoy your award."

When those words left Voldemort's mouth, Hermione struggled harder to get away from the stranger who was keeping her in place. Before she could stop herself, she brought her head down to his arm and bit hard. She could taste blood in her mouth as she heard him growl in rage at her:"You filthy little..."

The moment later she was slapped hard across her face which caused her to lose balance and fall down. She was kneeling on the blood soaked earth again, panting. His voice stayed in her head, she knew she'd heard it before but she couldn't place it anywhere.

She wanted her eyesight back, she was nothing without it. She was completely useless and at the mercy of the Death Eater that chose her. A small hope formed inside of her, telling her that maybe he'd given up on her and maybe he decided to take someone else instead of her. Someone who would cause him less trouble. But her stupid hope was destroyed in a second. She closed her eyes, praying one last time for death and then she was pulled to her feet, the grip on her arm merciless and rougher than before.

Then the squeezing sensation of apparation overtook her and she couldn't hear the whimpers of the other survivors anymore, she didn't hear the shouting of the Death Eaters and the light rustling of the wind anymore.

She felt solid ground beneath her feet and there was absolute silence around her. At that moment Hermione knew she would better be off dead.

A/N:I hope you like my new story! If you do, then please tell me what you think. If you want me to continue, tell me in a review and make my day. :)