Summary: Set-Post DH. Non-Cannon. After Voldemort successfully defeats Harry in the Battle for Hogwarts, the entire wizarding world is thrown into bedlam… Hermione Granger's life included. Her two best friends are dead, and worst of all she is captured as a prisoner of war and sentenced, as part of a sick plan conceived by Voldemort, to live as a concubine for none other than her childhood enemy, Draco Malfoy until the Death Eaters are ready to kill her. Will anything but pain come out of this terrible arrangement? Is all hope truly lost in the Wizarding World? A story about overcoming the past and finding beauty in the person that you least expect.
A/N: Inspired in part by the poem " Mad Girl's Love Song " by Sylvia Plath.
ALSO: This story is rated 'M'. If subject matter such as suicide, sexual abuse, or mature sexual content/ mature language bothers you, please don't say I didn't warn you!
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series, franchise, characters, ex cetra, all belong to JKR. No copyright infringement intended.
*^**^*^**^*^**^ Mad Girl's Love Song *^**^*^**^*^**^
CHAPTER 1: Leave My Body
Goodnight cow jumping over the moon
Goodnight light and the red balloon"
-Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown
The floor of the Great Hall was covered in blood.
It pooled underneath the feet of the enchanted armor, circled around the stone rubble that was once Hogwarts' grand staircase, and flooded Hermione's trainers.
The smell of blood filled Hermione's nostrils, but it didn't matter because she was running through the Great Hall with a ferocious intensity.
"ROOOONNN! ROOOOONN!" she bellowed as she propelled herself forward.
She spotted her red-headed companion across the giant Hall standing with his wand tight to his chest.
He couldn't see the Death Eater approaching him from the rear.
"ROOON!" she shouted. Her legs simply weren't moving fast enough.
She dodged sparks of red, green, and blue sprouting out from the wands of both members of the Order of the Phoenix and Voldemort's followers as she attempted to reach Ron before the fast-approaching spell impacted him.
If Hermione knew anything from attending Hogwarts for six years, she knew that when magic intended to cause pain, it does not know the difference between good people and evil people.
There was a reason certain curses were considered 'unforgivable'.
When she finally reached her boyfriend, she pushed the palms of her blood-covered hands square on his chest and sent them both tumbling over.
The Killing Curse that was intended to hit the Weasley flew over them and hit an unsuspecting Death Eater a few feet away.
Crisis averted…for now.
"Ron, we have to get out of here and find Harry! Come on! Hurry!"
She began pulling herself up as a quivering Ron followed.
" I think he's alive, we just have to find him!" she exclaimed. It was five hours into the battle, and amidst the confusion the trio had become separated. . Morale was down, and things were not looking good for the Order.
Ron grabbed Hermione's shaking hand and the two ran out of the Great Hall, dodging and reflecting curses along the way.
The intensity of the war forced Hermione to swallow her emotions, but when she exited the main doors, the tears that she had wanted to shed for months finally spilled over, carving rivers in the grime that covered her cheeks.
As she surveyed the rubble shrouded in night's darkness, she was once again reminded that everything that she once knew was turning to shit. And there was nothing that she could do about it.
The school that once gave her entire life hope and purpose was littered with the bodies of her friends and classmates.
The blood of the 'mudbloods', the Death Eaters and the purebloods were mixing in together all over the halls that she once remembered. Yet all of the blood looked the same horrific dark shade of red.
Their best friend was the only person who could stop this.
They ran back through the main entrance, through the Great Hall and into the courtyard.
The sight that they met outside in the courtyard stopped the two young people in their tracks.
"The true master of the Elder Wand is Draco Malfoy." It was Harry who uttered those words; his eyes were bloodshot and his usually rumpled hair looked extremely haggard and filthy. He looked like the ghost of Hermione's childhood friend, as if finally, this terrible war had caught up to the courageous wizard.
"But does it matter?" a low and scaly voice started. Hermione would have been a fool to misread the obvious malevolent intent in Voldemort's voice as he circled Harry. The evil snake-like wizard's semi-human eyes were latched onto him, and his mouth twisted into a mocking smirk.
"Even if you are right Potter, it makes no difference to me."
Hermione had heard enough.
"Ron we have to do something," she hissed to her red-headed friend, squeezing his hand tighter.
"What the fuck are we supposed to do?" He retorted, catching her worried eyes. "If we make a scene we will be good as dead," He tilted his head towards the crowd of Death Eaters who were surrounding Harry and Voldemort's confrontation. "Neville just sliced the fucking snake, so Harry's got to do this to finish it off-"
"But what if he doesn't?" she interjected, pushing away Ron's dirty hands as he tried to silence her. "What if-"
"Merlin, Hermione, we have to let him do this on his own. It's the only way. Remember 'only one can live while the other survives'?"
He ignored her protests and quickly guided her behind a giant pillar so they could view the confrontation from a more concealed vantage point. They were oblivious to the grey pair of eyes that were following them from the tight semi-circle behind Voldemort.
"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" Harry's voice was shaky, almost a whisper. Hermione had to crane her neck to hear her friend. "Does the wand in in your hand know its last master was disarmed? Because if it does…I am the true master of the Elder Wand."
It all made sense now. Draco Malfoy became the new master of the Elder Wand when he disarmed Dumbledore the night the headmaster died the year before. But ownership transferred to Harry as a result of the scuffle at Malfoy Manor, a fiery confrontation that resulted in the profanity that was permanently etched onto the milky white skin of her forearm and the death of the house-elf Dobby.
"Bloody hell," Ron whispered next to her.
She held his hand tighter.
'Bloody hell' was right.
The sun suddenly appeared in the sill of the nearest window. It seemed to Hermione too cheerfully bright, ignorant of the circumstances.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled, with a fury that sent chills down her spine. He raised his stolen wand directly at Harry and an unforgiving blast of green sparks poured out of the tip.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry roared in return, as a spark emerged out of the end of Draco Malfoy's wand.
The sparks met between the wizards like two colliding trains, powerful and deadly.
Even before Harry's lifeless body hit the ground, Hermione screamed and her knees folded underneath her as if they had been hit with a ton of bricks.
Voldemort thrust the unbeatable wand into the damp air in an act of swift, unparalleled glory.
It was done.
"I have defeated the GREAT HARRY POTTER!" The dark wizard let out a maleficent laugh that was soon echoed by the crowd of Death Eaters behind him.
As Voldemort continued with his victory speech, Ron had to grasp Hermione tightly in his arms to keep the brunette from screaming again.
"We have to DO something!" she whispered hotly as acid tears poured out of the corner of her eyes. "We have to KILL HIM! HE KILLED HARRY!"
"I know, I know! But what can we do? Most of the Order is dead, and now they are probably going to massacre the rest of us who survive! We will be hunted like cattle! If not today, then soon! And as for Voldemort, he can't even be destroyed unless Harry does it," He struggled to keep her down with him. She was inconsolable. "We have to find a way to get off the grounds so we can apparate and go into hiding-"
"No Ron, no! I'm not leaving until he is dead! After everything he did to us, I cannot believe you would be such a selfish prick that you would even suggest-"
She he knew was no longer listening when his mouth dropped open and his face transformed into a look of horror. His eyes were transfixed at the scene before them. The hordes of Voldemort's followers were jetting in every direction, trampling Harry's body, attacking the few hundred Order survivors, and searching for new prey.
Their semi-human leader stood in the middle of the raucous with a wide and crazed grin.
Hermione was certain that she never hated anyone as much as she did in that moment.
"Can we at least get the body?" she asked.
"We haven't got that kind of time-"
"I'm sure Harry didn't have the time to try save the Wizarding world, but he tried anyways," she snapped confidently, meeting her companion's eyes, which he soon lowered in defeat.
"Fine," he started reluctantly, balling the hand that wasn't clutching Hermione's into a tight fist. "But you will have to wait here while I-"
"Dammit, Hermione! I can't lose you too!"
"I'd rather be dead than leave all of this behind knowing that Harry died in vain. I want to help you! The three of us started this journey together on the train all those years ago, and we are going to end it for Harry today. Together."
It was Ron's turn to wipe hot tears from his eyes.
"Alright Hermione, but you stay behind me, and once we pick him up, I carry him the rest of the way."
She nodded and pulled out her wand.
Then, hands tightly interlaced, the two ill-fated companions emerged from behind their haven of the ancient column and into the commotion.
"Alright! Run!" Ron yelled, and they took off, cleaving between duels and diving over bodies of the dead from both sides of the battle.
Ron reached Harry first, sliding onto his knees and jumped toward the corpse of their childhood friend in one movement.
Perhaps that's why he didn't notice the flash of the green killing curse spiraling towards him.
The spell hit the side of his chest and toppled him over. It happened in a matter of seconds.
This was all a dream.
It had to be.
Even fate itself was not this cruel. At least, she thought it wasn't.
The world went silent.
The duels, the shouting, the distress over what had just happened in the Wizarding world, and the fear of what was going to happen all stopped being part of Hermione's conscious mind.
She couldn't hear the animalistic screams escaping her mouth, and she couldn't even breathe.
She threw her body over both of her friends and wept; the limbs of the living and the dead became intertwined in a beautiful mass of lost innocence.
She screamed their names; she always would love them and thanked Harry for being so brave. She thanked them for giving her a chance that day after they battled the troll in the bathroom and she thanked them for changing her life.
She was not ready to deal with this.
"Well look what we have here," a wicked voice mocked from above her.
She didn't move an inch. One arm was wrapped tightly around Harry, and the other hand was still interlocked with Ron's.
"What a beautifully tragic scene," the voice continued, letting out a sarcastic laugh, which was echoed by five or six other people. "The 'Boy Who Lived' and his reckless band of fools saying their last goodbyes how … noble. "
Hermione couldn't process Voldemort's words. She was studying the boys' faces, silently promising them that their lost ambitions, hopes, and dreams would not die with them. She vowed to live for them now since she could no longer live with them.
"No, more like Potter's mudblood little friend mourning the loss of two hapless fools!" Hermione ignored the growing laughter from the crowd behind her as she ran her dirt-covered fingers through her friends' hair.
"I thought the bitch was the brain of the bunch, but apparently I was incorrect. She's just as stupid as her dead mates. And apparently, deaf as well. " The voice's companions found this remark obnoxiously hilarious as they doubled over in bounds of laughter.
The evil voice paused and awaited her response, but she was wrapped in her own world, stroking Ron and Harry's emotionless faces, and gently pulling their eyelids down.
They almost looked asleep that way.
"Well, if you won't acknowledge me…" Voldemort raised his wand.
"Levicorpus," the voice said firmly and Hermione felt herself being pulled into mid-air. Her feet went first, gliding upwards like handle of a teacup being tipped over and slowly drained of its contents.
She fought the spell with every ounce of strength she had left, almost pulling the bodies of her deceased friends up into the air with her, but her arms were too sore from the battle, and, betraying her, Ron and Harry's lifeless hands slipped from her waning grasp.
She was then rotated 180 degrees, still upside down, to face her capturer, and ultimately her fate.
Voldemort's smile looked even more heinous from this new, twisted vantage point.
"Ahhh, much better little mudblood. You are to listen when someone speaks to you, or did your brute, blood-tainted parents not teach you any manners?"
Comparing Hermione's parents to animals sent Voldemort's supporters into stitches.
She did not say a word but just looked at him through heavy eyes for she felt so numb. The carnage and sudden abduction of innocence was too much, forcing her to shut down.
With a flick of the Elder Wand, Hermione found herself spinning upright, and her body was adjusted so that she faced Voldemort eye to eye.
Her face was tear-smeared and blotchy, but it betrayed no emotion.
She had none left to feel.
She just looked ahead with apathy that only a person who witnessed the foulest evil and pain in the world can muster.
Voldemort leaned closer to her face. She could feel his hot breath on his cheek. Despite the dead and decaying bodies surrounding them, the smell of death coming from him was insurmountable.
"I suppose we can let you die. Or murder you …or torture you to death. It's a shame the leader of the Weasley fertility clan murdered Bellatrix, she would have loved to finish what she started," with another flick of the stolen wand, Hermione's hand shot up in the air and the sleeve of her jacket rolled down to reveal her branded forearm to the Death Eaters.
The crowd erupted in laughter yet again.
"Never the matter, I think we may be able to have fun with this one," he chuckled lightly and in a move so completely unexpected, he reached a scaly talon and fingered a loose lock of her hair.
She snapped awake.
"YOU," her voice sounded rough, and foreign. It was someone else's. "VILE, VILE PIECE OF-"
Before she could finish her statement, the dark wizard flicked his wand and her mouth clamped shut.
She was livid by the time he brushed his hand over her cheek and slowly downward to trace her magically trapped lips.
"She is pretty, this one. I can see why Potter kept her around all this time. Even for a mudblood. No," he shook his bald head and looked as if he reached some sort of internal conclusion. "Killing this one would be expected, I think we should wait a little while. First, she will have to live knowing that everyone she cares for is dead, then I think we should assign her a situation that she will loathe more with each passing day. Preferably one that will make use of all her… attributes," Voldemort's eye slits narrowed into a shape of almost lust, as he interlocked another clawed finger into her brown curls.
Bile started to charge up Hermione's sore throat and her eyes pleaded with the monster.
No, just let me die.
"I think this sort of punishment would prove best for the little bitch. Think of it," his slits widened in excitement. "Potter's bookish little chum reduced to a whore for the enemy. It would be the last stab! He would roll in his grave - well-" Voldemort's head tilted as he eyed Harry's lifeless body. "That is if we decide to even give him a grave."
The Death Eaters nodded and grunted in agreement. Hermione strained to break through the spell, but she barely moved as her fate was sealed before her.
"Excellent," Voldemort explained, moving away from her to face his horde of followers that remained behind him.
"Now we just need to decide who will do the honors! Any takers?"
Now that Voldemort moved out of her line of vision, Hermione's eyes were glued to the sky, watching the angry sun glare down at her from a cloudless sky.
She suddenly went back to feeling numb.
"No takers? Oh dear, I might have been wrong," He quickly turned to the levitated witch and cast her brief, creepy smile. "Blood does indeed run thicker than looks. Well then, I shall just assign her to one of you fools."
His beady eyes searched the crowd swiftly.
The vomit continued to charge up her throat.
She couldn't breathe. Her vision became blurred and as an involuntary surge of tears was currently clouding her vision.
Yet somehow, her emotional numbness refused to give way to physical pain.
Its not supposed to happen like this.
"Oh I have a wonderful idea!" Voldemort cried. He twisted his demi-face into a caricature of excitement. "Lucius! Bring the boy!"
Despite the light murmur of discontent that spread throughout the crowd and a loud gasp of protest from a female, the sound of robes shuffling indicated that the crowd had indeed parted as three pairs of reluctant feet moved forward.
Hermione lowered her weary eyes, and, for a brief second, her eyes met Draco Malfoy's.
And suddenly she understood what was going to happen to her.
But for that brief second her fate didn't matter.
Because Draco Malfoy looked utterly terrified.
A/N: Read and review please! Thanks to arosesinnocence for beta-ing!