Sweet Sacrifice

Chapter 1. A Dangerous Plan

Hermione's PoV

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(Three years later ...)

Voldemort is, perhaps, the most evil and bloodthirsty Dark Lord that's ever been seen. Facing his wrath is something quite nasty to behold, from what I hear. The mere mention of his name can make hundreds cower in fear. He savors the killings of those he feels to be unworthy: the non-pureblood witches and wizards that help populate our world. Many brutal murders have taken place since his rebirth in our fourth year of school, many years ago. However, it is within the past three years that he has taken it upon himself to kidnap and rape young women - be they witch or Muggle. He completes this heinous task by killing the women before sunrise. His preferred choice of execution is using the Sectumsempra curse, decapitating his victims in a positively violent manner. To see such brutality, such bloodshed, deeply disturbs my sister Desdemona and me, as these murdered women are our siblings. They're not blood-related siblings like we are, but for the fact that we all are human - different, but still alike.

It is as I arrive at the steps of number 5 Sovereign Ave, the small flat my sister and I share, that I think these things. I can hear Desdemona's voice through the door as she fumbles with the locks I placed there for added security.

"Don’t forget to ask me the question," I say through the door, reminding her. This is merely a precautionary measure taken by the Ministry of Magic to crack down on Death Eaters impersonating other magical folk or Muggles. I have always enforced any type of security with my sister, seeing as how we live alone and are vulnerable.

"Oh, damn, I forgot," she sighs, unintentionally slamming the door in my face. "All right, what was my favorite story to have you read to me when I was little and why?"

"Cinderella, because you said I always told you stories with vivid creativity. Okay, now what was your reaction when you learned I was a witch?"

Desdemona sighs. I know that she's thinking this is all a waste of time, but I firmly believe an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. "Irritation and then finally, acceptance over how smashing it would be to have an actual, real life witch in the family."

Slowly, she opens the door, and I walk in.

"Was that all right?" she probes, raising a dark eyebrow.

I nod, giving her a smile and a hug, which she returned gratefully. Desdemona and I are as different as night and day. She with her dark brunette hair that lies perfectly straight, and me with my bushy hair that sticks out in every spot. Our temperaments are different too - with the occasional squabble here and there - but we love each other deeply all the same.

Since I graduated from Hogwarts three years ago, my younger sister and I watched as all the horrible events unfolded in the magical world. But no matter how grim things may be, she is great at making me laugh and helping me to unwind and forget the emotional pain after the long, excruciating days of helping the Order of the Phoenix.

The Order is in desperate need of any aid, especially with the recent loss of three more members. Parts of the magical populace are starting to view the Order as a lost cause, and they're refusing to join us. Because of the loss, the remaining members have to pull double duty just to make sure things run as smoothly as possible. Today is just another exhausting example of what our previous days have been like. Most of my mornings and afternoons are spent helping the Order prepare recovery missions. Between the planning, we have been healing our wounded fighters. For over a year now, St. Mungo’s been closed, and their injuries are much too ghastly to be seen by Muggle doctors. Therefore, we treat them ourselves to the best of our abilities. However, Desdemona still knows and understands the problems taking place in the world I love so much.

It is because of our wanting the bloody massacres - not to mention the raping of women - to end, that my sister and I have schemed and plotted for the past few weeks, eventually coming up with a highly risky plan for making it all stop. The plan would entail me being captured and taken to Voldemort himself.

A risky plan? Yes. Dangerous? Absolutely. A rather suicidal mission that if it fails, would cost me my life. Yet if it's successful, and if I could somehow kill him, it would stop the needless violence against the innocent. However, it is the only plan we have, and tonight, I want to make it work. Ron Weasley, my boyfriend of three years, would never agree to my plan, fearing the consequences heavily outweighed the benefits. So he doesn't know anything about it, and I plan to keep it that way. Desdemona has sworn to me she wouldn’t tell him ... no matter the consequences.

~*~

It is late into the evening now as I begin my dangerous trek into Diagon Alley. After I bid Desdemona a tearful good bye, I set off. She begged to come with me, but I would not allow it. Mum and Dad would be devastated over losing one child, but two would send them over the edge.

Looking at my wristwatch, I see the hands are pointing to 10:30 PM. A cold breeze sweeps by, sending a deep chill down my spine, as I stand completely alone in the dark and vacant streets of Diagon Alley. Since the second wizarding war broke out between my sixth and seventh years, the once quaint location where all magical folks could shop for their supplies has become a rundown, desolate place overrun by Death Eaters. Chipping paint and broken windows and doors stand as reminders to all of what was lost when the war began.

I hear a twig breaking in the distance. Someone is here with me; I can sense it. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I walk further down the dark alley, my mind telling me that maybe this was not such a good idea after all. As I turn around to leave, thinking that perhaps no one is here, I hear the sounds of people Apparating all around me. My eyes scan nervously around the dark; I immediately pull my wand out for protection. The sounds of footsteps, swishing cloaks, and mumbled voices travel on the cold wind, filling my ears. A flash of silver light shoots out, barely missing my head by inches. I wave my wand, sending a Stunning spell their way as I duck; more shots miss me by mere inches. I see that ten Death Eaters now surround me.

"Wondering around at night, dearie?" one of them cackles. Immediately I recognize her harsh voice: Bellatrix Lestrange.

"She seems to have lost her way," says an unfamiliar voice.

More shots fire from different angles as long thin ropes encircle around me. I can only cast away so many of the curses before the full-body bind spell hits me in the shoulder blades. Unable to move, I am blindfolded from behind as a second person unzips my pants and slips their hand down my knickers. My breath catches in my throat as the person roughly grabs me, placing a finger slightly inside me.

"This one's still a virgin," Bella cackles, before removing her hand. "She'll be perfect for the Dark Lord."