Desperate Measures

Hermione stepped confidently into the car even though she didn't feel it. It took all her power not to wobble from the inexperience of her high heels and nerves. Her wand was hidden inside her robes to pull out at any time, and she had a handbag with Muggle safety precautions like a personal alarm. A shrunken bag full of useful things was inside that bag and she knew she would need them, and wished she had been able to carry more.

She shook away her misgivings as a Death Eater leered at her, trying to pull more fabric over her exposed legs. She chided herself as she remembered that was a Hermione thing. Emma was a slag in her clothing through and through and would not care if she were showing her arse. Hermione moaned inwardly - this was hell on earth, and the car was drafty, cold, and stinking of body odour, cigars and dust.

Hermione surveyed the few Death Eaters. There were two groups. The ones that were ogling her and then the ones that severely mistrusted her. They obviously weren't used to picking up young women, but the way she was dressed and presented was too much. They would have their fun with her tonight, modify her memory and let her go.

She knew she would have to lick the boots of the obvious ringleader in this group. The one who would want her around and trust her most, she would have to get in with him first so he could approve, and once the others were used to her, she would be a fixture - probably once it was cleared with Voldemort as well.

It wasn't a long journey, but it was a silent one. The car stopped and she followed them into a little house that was hidden to Muggles.

She let her eyes take in the surroundings. Hermione expected the house to not be like the car, that surely they would take care more of their surroundings as they had to live in it, the car was only very occasionally used, so it looked. The driver seemed unfamiliar with actually driving and constantly crunched the gears and stalled a few times.

The house was very dirty. It looked like it had once been lavish and wailed Lucius Malfoy and his tainted money. It needed a lot of cleaning and care, as there were burn marks from curses practiced. Maybe they wouldn't keep her as a one-night thing and prevent them from living like pigs instead and clean for them. Just because they were in hiding didn't mean they had to hide in such squalor.

But come on... Hermione thought bitterly. They are men; their dicks control them. She was going to be nothing more than a common prostitute to them and a thick bimbo. They would never trust her with anything and they would be too guarded to let her find out anything anyway - if they didn't kill her first. But she had to try, for Ron's sake, to try and find him. She owed him that much- to try.

***

The ringleader beckoned Hermione to come to him and follow him into a little room off the main reception area where the others were settling down. He eyed her up approvingly. Hermione shuddered. He motioned for her to sit at the chair in front of the desk.

"Do you have a name?" he asked, smirking.

"Of course I do sir, my name is Emma Mercer."

"Well Emma Mercer," the man said softly, but menacingly. "Why do you think you are here?"

"I have no idea, I was standing outside of the pub and you called me over and I came."

"Yes. Some of us called you over because we assume you perform... services."

Hermione blanched visibly. This was goodbye to her dignity - but she would do it - and do it gladly, because each release every man got through her, she would be closer to gaining trust or witnessing a blunder, which meant she would find Ron. Time to switch off emotions, thought Hermione. She smiled archly.

"Depends on the kind you are talking about..."

"Don't fuck with me, whore, you know full well what I am talking about,"

Her smile faltered.

"However, we have been talking about having someone like you around here permanently. We are important men with important and confidential business. We want someone stupid like you who will have no idea of the details or the importance of what we do."

Hermione nodded. Maybe there was a way around this.

"We expect you to perform acts of our choice, willingly and with no complaints. When we are not here, we want you to be getting this house into an acceptable state, as we have had complaints from our landlord." He winced as he said that last sentence. The landlord was no regular wizard, or even Muggle, it had to be Voldemort, and he was merciless, no wonder he shifted uncomfortably.

Hermione blinked and let her eyes unfocus. She knew that made her look dim and not all there. She would have them think she was so simple, she could not stand up a cauldron or hold a wand. But she would show them, and she would use all her cunning to get out of performing these 'acts'. Cleaning was ok - 'services' were definitely not ok, but she wouldn't argue, she wasn't there for the good of her health - she had a purpose.

She attempted to stand up for herself despite knowing that it may land her being shown as a spy figure or killed for insolence.

"What makes you think I'm that stupid not to realise what you may be doing?"

The man smirked. He was heavy set with greying dark brown hair.

"Look at yourself in the mirror darling. No smart girl would dress like that on such a night. You look as thick as two short wands - and where the hell is your wand may I ask sweet 'art? If you were anyway near intelligent, you would have it out to blast my fucking head off. So no offence or nothing." His tone was alarmingly different from his earlier speeches, he was clearly getting annoyed, Hermione shrunk back, she didn't want to make him angrier, she was on very delicate ground at the moment.

Hermione smiled within and said sweetly. "None taken."

This was going to be easier than she thought.

***

Over the next few days, Hermione wasn't supposed to leave the house. There wasn't time to get in contact with Dumbledore to tell him she hadn't been killed. Hermione could not think of a way out of the initial sexual act on the ringleader to prove what she could do.

It was degrading and disgusting. Hermione tried hard not to grimace as she took him into her mouth. She vowed this would be once and once only. Thinking of Ron made it worse, her guilt. He wouldn't want her to do this for him. The man tasted terrible and rubbed it into her face aggressively after.

When he was done and zipped up again, he led her to a magically extended room. Compared to the rest of the place, it was clean and lightly furnished. Hermione set down her stuff and held her head in her hands. She stayed like that all night, distraught at what she had done.

***

Her first morning, she was woken up and instructed to cook breakfast. That wasn't the worst task, but not an easy one. There were ten men to cook for, but identical in their tastes. They didn't seem to care what they put into their mouths or how ungracefully they shovelled it down.

Some went about their 'respectable business', while others lounged about the house, talking in hushed voices and leaving one at a time, looking over their shoulder as they walked down the road.

When there was only two left, Hermione got on with her set work to clear the house. Luckily, being a talented witch, rooms were sorted out quickly. Rubbish was summoned to bin bags and once that was all out of the way, apart from dusting and sweeping, there wasn't much to do. Even though she was a poor witch and slow on the uptake, she tried to show that she did have some skills- even though they were repetitive, domestic ones.

They arrived in dribs and drabs from five o'clock. She didn't know if she was expected to cook for them or not, but put aside a plan for a quick meal if she was expected to.

When they had all arrived, it turned out that they were expecting feeding. They waited impatiently like little boys while she cooked and ate with them while they discussed whether to keep her with them or not.

It looked like they agreed to keep her. The ringleader, Anton, seemed keen to keep her on, and talked animatedly during the first course, slopping tomato sauce down his robes.

Hermione really didn't understand. Why have her, when they were serious Death Eaters and could have a more loyal house elf. Without mentioning that they were evil, that they inflicted violence against Muggles, she asked her question. They looked at each other. Anton smirked.

"For a thick bitch, you ask a lot of questions."

"I suppose I do."

"Well, we'd prefer you to a house elf as you are a kinda all-in-one - cleaner, cook, slag - and to be honest you are too thick to ask questions to find out what we really do - you give head better than any house elf and did I mention that we will fucking kill you if you tell anyone anything - because we'll know if you do."

Hermione gulped. Emma Mercer, the whore/maid, wouldn't take that seriously - they were respectable, important businessmen - too posh to perpetrate murder. Hermione Granger, the spy, who was also a mudblood, knew they were Death Eaters. One step out of line or the slightest hint of suspicion and they would be taking what was left of her back to Dumbledore and her parents in a matchbox.

***

It took a while to negotiate leaving the house. Hermione was insistent that she had relatives who were either elderly, or she was devoted to and wanted to see. They agreed to allow her two hours out of her day to travel and visit, they didn't want to, but Hermione had asked why she wasn't allowed out of the house, it wasn't like they had anything to hide. She knew she was pushing her luck for that and they may have turned on her, but sighed with relief when Anton smiled uncomfortably and said: 'of course'.

***

What Hermione was also surprised at was that the Death Eaters were unrecognisable to the ones she had battled at Hogwarts in her fifth year. They were facially unrecognisable now, they had filled out after eating many good meals, their hair was shorter and kept more conservative than the matted mess it had once been. Exposure to the light and sun had darkened their skin slightly, and their eyes looked less manic, more human. Despite that and a few random small acts of kindness, like letting her settle in before they treated her like a whore. They were men who did terrible things and even though their lives were dedicated to Voldemort, a few human acts of mercy slipped through. But, she knew they had abducted, tortured and possibly killed Ron. There was no time to lose; she would have to work quickly.

***

Anton's second-in-command took Hermione on the tour of the house and gave her list of her duties about nine o' clock on her first morning. She didn't quite hear his name. He had the same attitude as his superior, and only spoke when giving orders for each room or remembering details about rooms and such she had to clean and what she was allowed to touch or not. Hermione noticed that she was only going into a few of the rooms. She thought about asking why, and see what he would say, but she remembered that Emma is supposed to be stupid. But not as stupid as this man...

"Now... Emma. You're probably wondering why you aren't to go into these rooms down here. Anton says I must tell you nutin' but we all reckon you're as thick as shit to be here so what we tell you, I reckon you're gonna forget."

"Oh right," she meekly replied, stumbling over her own feet as she went to prove her point that she *was* stupid enough to be told the screwy things. She wasn't even wearing shoes.

"You can't go any further than this point here," the 'second-in-command' as Hermione had now named him gestured to a door at what appeared to be the end of the hallway. "You can't because we have important things in there and it's to do with us and us only to know. There is nothing to stop you from opening the door to have a peek, but you seem the sensitive type and you would feel dead guilty if you betrayed us, not to mention fear that we are gonna kill you for what you saw." He seemed to like being able to tell her things that he couldn't mention to another person, like he could get it off his chest. He was regurgitating what Anton had said; he blindly followed his leaders, but needed someone to tell at the end of the day and was revelling in having a new person to teach.

Hermione laughed nervously. "No sir, I won't look into the door."

The 'second-in-command' looked at her approvingly. "Atta girl. You're learning. You know what - there is a better way of getting in anyway. He was getting more relaxed now, she appeared to hang onto his every word and he was enjoying this power it gave him. Now you wanna see a good piece of magic? Thought so, you don't seem very much like a witch, almost squibbish. This room here is magically added - but if we Apparate outside - can you do that love? No? Oh well, we'll just have to walk around. - Seriously, you want to learn how. Now if you tap the wall here with your wand like this - look - see? That platform that comes down takes us up to that room and its also shielded by an invisibility charm."

Hermione looked impressed. To her it seemed a little simple - any old witch or wizard could enter if they thought about the taps hard enough. But she had to appear like she had never seen anything like it in her life. She breathed reverently.

"Wow, it's amazing. I don't really get so see much magic. I went to Hogwarts, but I was never any good. I had just enough magic to scrape passes in everything; I didn't even go on after my OWLs. But why if there is a door inside - why have that?"

'Second-in-command' smiled at her in a fatherly way. "You are so simple - we have important things to do. Sometimes time is of the essence and there isn't time to unlock the door and race up the stairs and find the room,"

"Oh right."

'Second-in-command' put his arm around her. "You know what Emma, I think I'm going to like having you around here - you remind me of my own daughter who is going to look like you when she grows up. I hope she don't do what you do - but I'll be proud if she looks like you. You'll never have me breathing fire whiskey in your face asking for them sort of favours."

"Thank you," Hermione said gracefully, smiling encouragingly. "I think we're going to get on fine..."

***

On her first two hours off, Hermione made her way to the little holiday rental cottage that belonged to her 'Grandmother' and 'Auntie'. She had made detailed plans with Dumbledore to sort out the finer points of her plan, which she hadn't had time to see to.

The cottage was bound by the Fidelus charm so the Death Eaters could not find her there or anyone else who was visiting. When Hermione let herself in, she found an old woman sitting in an armchair idly attempting to knit. The blanket was a disaster, full of holes and wonky stitching.

"Tonks." Hermione stated. She knew it was the metamorphagus, who else would be so clumsy in their knitting?

"The very same. Hello, Hermione. Don't you look different?"

"Don't even start. You got any more robes for me? I am sick of these already."

Tonks got up and dragged a bag of clothes and other needed garments over to the inappropriately dressed woman.

"Here you go."

"Thanks."

"What have you got on them? Have you got anything at all? Do they even trust you yet?"

"I've got one of them who sees me more as a daughter, and I get the impression he thinks I'm so dumb, he can tell me the screwy stuff. He also keeps on showing me bits of magic that is hiding their stuff and how to get around it,"

"Men. Go gaga for a pretty face and good body," Tonks wisely said.

"I know - idiots." The two women cackled.

"But seriously," said Tonks. "You got the stuff?"

"Do I ever?" Hermione smiled, as she pulled out her wand and transfigured her purse into a pensive. Hermione looked at it and sadly smiled.

"Nice bit of magic there, isn't it?"

"Yep. Its my pensieve too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it was my twentieth birthday present from Harry and Ron."

"Oh. You ok?"

"Think so. I just wish I could move faster that's all - it's been nearly two bloody days! He could be dead or anything. I just wish I could move faster."

Hermione pulled her wand to her temple and poured out her silvery memories into the bowl. They swirled around as Tonks tried to see what had happened.

"Shit, Hermione - that was never part of the plan was it?" Tonks was referring to what Hermione now bitterly called her 'audition'.

"No, but I couldn't think of a way out of it. Causing a fuss would have got me killed and my wand was too far into my robes to fight. I had no choice..."

"In the future, have your wand at the ready, knock them out and modify their memories - you know, its point and Obliviate!"

Hermione smiled.

"Or take part in a long seduction where I make them drink wine or something with sleeping tablets."

"You mean sleeping potion?"

"Tonks, are you mad? They will know a sleeping draught three million miles off. Muggle sleeping tablets are the way - they'll never know."

"You are a clever bitch aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Lets see what they've shown you... wow! The Order is going to find this dead useful!"

***