The Worst That Could Happen

She would never know how she managed to keep from shaking as they walked through a field. She didn't understand why Draco had used the Portkey to get them here, to this field.

She understood all, however, when Draco stepped up to something and opened what could have been a door. Through the doorway, she could see a foyer decorated in black snakes and tiles that had silver snakes imbedded in them. Slowly, she followed Draco into the invisible building and looked around in amazement at what she saw.

Draco looked back at her. "Close your mouth," he ordered. "And don't look so impressed. We have plenty of rooms in the manor that look relatively close to this."

"We do?" she asked.

"Yes, now remember what I've told you. Here's your wand."

Hermione took the offered wand and put it inside of her over robe. She then followed Draco through a side door and was not surprised to see Lucius Malfoy standing at Voldemort's side, looking like a proud servant.

"Draco Malfoy," Voldemort smiled from his throne. There was a huge snake at his feet and Death Eaters circled the room. "Is this really that little fox I let you keep?" he asked, looking her over. "You do your job well."

"Milord, she has agreed that it is time for her to become your servant. She is willing to do whatever it takes to serve you."

"Is this so?" the Dark Lord asked her.

"It is," she answered, looking at his feet. She was sure she wouldn't be allowed to look anywhere else, not with her blood.

"Then step up, Young Fox, and allow me to place my Mark on your skin."

Hermione did as she was told, appearing to be braver than she felt. She was surprised that she wasn't shaking and that her knees weren't giving out on her. She was further amazed she could walk in high heals being as nervous as she was.

"Give me your left arm," the Dark Lord requested.

Again, Hermione did as she was told. The Dark Lord pushed the sleeve of her robe up and placed his palm on the soft flesh of her underarm.

There was a heat coming from his hand that was unlike any Hermione had ever felt before. It was scorching, and she could hear her skin sizzling. Yet she managed to keep any cry or scream of pain down as she watched him brand her. When he pulled his hand away, the Dark Mark stood out clearly against her white skin. It was black, as she had expected it to be, and the skin around it was red.

"You didn't cry out," the man before her noticed. Hermione could have sworn she heard awe in his voice. "Even some of my most ruthless and best Death Eaters, the ones who can stand Cruciatus have cried out at least once during the Marking."

Hermione didn't respond, not knowing if she should or not. Draco had told her not to speak unless spoken to, so she figured she was best off not saying anything unless she was asked a direct question.

"You have no reply to this?" he asked. "Or has my faithful servant, whom I have entrusted your life, told you it is best that you don't say much at all?"

"Draco has made it very clear that I should not speak unless I am spoken to, Milord," Hermione answered. "In response to your Death Eaters' weakness, perhaps you should build up their pain tolerance. That didn't hurt at all."

"That didn't hurt?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing hurts anymore."

"You were Harry Potter's best friend, were you not?" the Dark Lord asked her.

Hermione nodded. "I was one of his best friends, yes."

"Then why are you betraying his memory in this fashion? Surely his other friends wouldn't have become faithful to me as you have done."

"Harry Potter was a fool," Hermione repeated. Inside, her heart was tearing her apart for saying this, but her survival instincts had taken over. She would do, say, and feel anything that ensured her survival. "He didn't know what was best for him. He fought for so long and so hard that it killed him, I watched it happen, knowing how it would all turn out in the end. He betrayed me when he died, it is only right that I betray his memory. I will assist you in any way you ask of me, my Lord. I will tell you anything you wish regarding Dumbledore's resistance. I may not be able to tell you where the headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix are located, but I can take you there and I can show you."

"What an excellent idea, Miss Granger."

"With your permission, my Lord, I would much rather be called a Malfoy. I wish to have nothing more to do with my past, only my future."

"You get me the Order of the Phoenix, and I will grant you the name Malfoy, as well as the status of any pureblood faithful to my cause."

Hermione nodded.

"We leave immediately," the Dark Lord said to all of those in the room. He stood and circled the room, pointing to a few Death Eaters in the room. When he made it back to his throne, those he had not called upon left the room.

"Those of you I have chosen shall accompany us to the headquarters of Dumbledore's resistance. No one will make a move until this woman here has killed the first person. Today, we wipe out the rest of our problems."

Hermione returned to the manor briefly before she led the Death Eaters and Voldemort to headquarters. She had changed into her school uniform; the very one she had been wearing the day her life turned up-side-down. She walked up to the door that served as entrance to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Knowing her companions could not be seen, Hermione walked in, shaking. She forced herself to start crying and knew her hair already looked a mess.

Professor Lupin, healing from his wounds a month ago was walking down the stairs when she opened the door.

"Hermione?" he asked in amazement. "Dear Merlin, we thought we'd lost you! What happened?"

Hermione broke down in fake sobs. "It was horrible, Professor," she cried, seeing that the others were steadily making their way in through the open door. "Draco Malfoy--he--he kidnapped me and he took me to the manor! He--he made me..." the last Death Eater entered the room with Voldemort right behind him. "He made me realize how wrong we've been all these years," Hermione finished, her voice suddenly cold and hateful. She knew Avada Kedavra would not work on a werewolf--their own dark magic always counteracted it. Lucky for her, she knew exactly which curse would work to kill him.

Hermione raised her wand and pointed it at the shocked ex-professor. "Argenteus!" she shouted.

Lupin screamed as his blood turned to silver and Hermione watched as he fell to the floor, writhing in pain. Mrs. Weasley came running down the stairs, hearing Lupin's agonized cries.

"Merlin," she whispered. "What's happened to him?" she demanded from Hermione.

"I-I don't know!" the girl cried. "He-he just--he just started screaming and he-he fell!"

Mrs. Weasley fussed over the fallen werewolf and Hermione turned her attention to the Dark Lord. What was she to do? Did he want her to kill Molly?

As if hearing her unvoiced question, Voldemort nodded.

What if it didn't work? What if she cast the curse and nothing happened? They would know her to be a traitor and then they'd kill her on the spot! But it had to be done.

Hermione raised her wand again. "Avada Kedavra," she whispered.

"Wha--" was all Mrs. Weasley could say before the green light of the curse overtook her and she fell over the now-dead werewolf, lifeless as he was.

Hermione felt a cold shock flow through her body. Lupin was dead now, and Mrs. Weasley.... Both of whom she had trusted with her very life....

She would not allow herself to feel the shock.

Voldemort had circled her. "Now scream," he said softly in her ear.

Hermione screamed as she had never screamed before.

Above, doors could be heard slamming and were soon followed by thundering footsteps as whoever resided in the house rushed to get to the main level.

The first person to make it in the room was Ron. "'Mione?" he asked amazed. Then he looked down at the floor where the bodies of his mother and friend lay lifeless. "Oh god," he choked. "Who did this?" he demanded, kneeling at their bodies.

Hermione stood frozen.

"WHO DID THIS?" Ron shouted, causing her to jump.

"This was your last best friend was it not?" Voldemort asked in her ear.

Hermione blinked in response.

"Kill him."

"Hermione?" Ron asked, looking worried. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Then she raised her wand a third time and whispered the same curse that had taken his mother's life. Ron, too, fell over, his face frozen in shock and fear.

Order members came bursting through the doors all at once. That was when the Death Eaters made themselves known.

It was a massacre. The Order didn't stand a chance. Everyone in the house died. Tonks, Shacklebolt, Doge, Arthur, Charlie, and Vance. All of them faithful, all of them dead.

She had been granted pureblood status and the Malfoy name because of her great deed.

That night, back at the manor, she sobbed, alone in the darkness of her own room. She had killed, and she hadn't thought twice about doing so. What kind of monster had she turned herself into?