Hell is Empty and All the Devils Are Here

Summary: In their fifth year at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had a baby girl. Now, dark secrets will be brought to the surface- Lord Voldemort has a task that Draco must complete- if he fails, his daughter and girlfriend will be killed.

This is a sequel to my story The Start of Our Lives. Please read that story first before reading this one.

Chapter One: Forced

They say that being a mother teaches one to realize the magic in life that their childhood brought them.

If only it taught you to how to get a baby to sleep.

Hermione Granger yawned widely and switched Mira to her other arm, bouncing her lightly as she paced the room of the nursery. It was three-thirty in the morning and Mira was still wide awake and crying.

"C'mon Mira," Hermione begged quietly. "You've been up all night, you've got to be tired."

The last month had been tedious for Hermione. She wasn't able to go to any of her classes, a feat that annoyed her greatly. When she wasn't catching up on schoolwork, she was with Mira practically 24/7. Hermione envied Draco for being able to get away for some time. Right now she felt as though her head would explode from listening to a baby cry for far too long.

Hermione had brought Mira home on the Hogwarts Express at the end of term a week ago. She remembered walking into the Great Hall for the first time since Mira was born and everyone craning to get a good look at Draco Malfoy's baby. Ginny offered to hold her while Hermione ate quickly. Lavender and Pavarti had cooed over the baby and had fought over who was holding her next.

At the Leaving Feast, Dumbledore had spread his arms open wide and announced his best wishes to Hermione and Draco and requesting the rest to have a good holiday.

Draco had gone back to Malfoy Manor to collect his stuff. Hermione had dreaded him doing this, worrying that his father could be home or his mother. She had returned to her home in the muggle world and he had assured her that he would come as soon as he could.

He was gone for over a week. Hermione wanted to send an owl to him but she only had Crookshanks as a pet. She struggled to look after Mira by herself as her mother was at work for most of the day. For seven days, she dreaded the thought of Draco being caught with no way to escape his father's wrath, or being tortured or even being dead.

She told herself that she was pessimist for thinking that; Draco was just saying goodbye to his old house.

But seven days was far too long and it felt more like seven months to Hermione.

He arrived at the house looking worse for wear. Hermione flew at him and hugged him so tightly that he couldn't wriggle out of her grasp. Then she went into a rage, screaming at him for leaving her- he couldn't get her to calm down. He didn't want to explain anything to her; he just wanted to sleep forever, he never wanted to wake up.

And so he slept. And continued to sleep. He would not get up when Mira needed them and Hermione was left to do everything by herself.

Hermione guided herself to the rocker in the corner of Mira's room and sat down in it, hoping the movements would calm Mira down. She had no idea how to get her to sleep- some nights Mira was good and only woke up once or twice. Hermione would feed and change her and she would fall back asleep.

Other nights, like tonight, Mira was being impossible. It was as though she enjoyed the fact that Hermione felt as though she was half-dead from lack of sleep or something. And what made Hermione sob even harder when nothing worked was that she had to do this all by herself.

A soft shuffling of footsteps announced her mother walking into the room.

"Give her to me, Hermione. You need your sleep."

Hermione wanted to argue but she was so tired that she couldn't bring herself to speak.

In her bedroom, Draco was sound asleep, completely oblivious to his daughter's cries or Hermione's quiet, anguished sobs as she cried herself to sleep.

When Draco woke up the next morning, he was startled to discover that he had slept in till ten o'clock. The house was quiet. He looked around the pink room, his head pounding.

The last week of his life had been absolute hell. He had flew to Malfoy Manor on his Nimbus 2001, zooming over the darkened grounds and next thing he knew he had blacked out and woke up to find himself in the drawing room.

The man who stood in front of him was so terrible he thought that he was only imagining it, yet so real he knew that there was no way he could ever think up a face that terrifying. He started yelling and struggling against the bindings.

"Young Mister Malfoy," the cold voice had rasped as Draco realized that his father was standing by the terrible face's side. "I have heard tell of a….ahem…a new arrival."

Draco stopped breathing. This was You-Know-Who, Lord Voldemort, his father had so dearly worshipped. He had planned to follow in his father's footsteps his entire life, to please him.

But now the Dark Lord knew about Hermione and Mira- the only two people he cared about in the world. And he knew that he had produced a half-blood no less…Draco knew that he was in trouble.

"I have to say," Voldemort had rasped in that cold, cold voice, "I was awfully surprised to learn from dear Lucius that you had…mated with a Mudblood. Friend to Potter, no doubt."

Draco didn't say anything. He just stared into those blue eyes, like ice. He refused to look away.

"Your father has informed me all about this, of course."

Draco glared at Lucius, hatred seething out of him. Lucius stared back resentfully. Draco had once loved his father and had once respected, once wanted to make him proud and to be exactly like him.

But if he couldn't trust his father anymore, then he really didn't want anything to do with him.

"This is very fortunate for myself," Voldemort continued, pacing back and forth in front of Draco. "You being close with the Mudblood can help me get closer to Potter. What say you Draco? Will you help me?"

Again, Draco didn't reply. He was disoriented; everything was a blur. A million questions rushed through his head and he didn't have time to find out the answer. Lord Voldemort was waiting.

"Perhaps the Cruciatus Curse…ought to loosen your tongue."

The pain was beyond excruciating. Like a thousand white-hot knives being driven into his skin. He tried to yell out, "Make it stop!" but his screams overrode it.

When Voldemort finally pulled his wand away, Draco felt as though the pain was still there but he stopped screaming. He lay on the dusty floor, shaking. As it slowly faded away, it came again once more.

"Stop!"

The voice was familiar but Draco hardly drunk in who it was. He gasped for breath, sweating and panting.

"Narcissa," Voldemort said softly. "You dare to defy me?"

Narcissa Malfoy took a step back, taking her husband's hand.

"Of course not, my Lord. But…" She looked fearful but determined. "He is my son. My only son."

"Yes. And he is quite useful to me."

Narcissa fell silent, shaking with suppressed sobs as Voldemort looked down at Draco's trembling figure.

"You've always wanted to be just like your father, Draco," Voldemort whispered as he towered over him. "You are vulnerable. I can see your every thought- your like an open book. I can see your love for the Mudblood and that half-breed you possess. Love," he suddenly spat bitterly on the ground. "Only worthy for fools."

He suddenly realized what was happening. He knew what the Dark Lord wanted. He couldn't say no. His brain wouldn't let him. Terrified at being tortured again, he allowed his arm to be held out, allowed the Dark Lord to burn his flesh with his wand. He didn't cry out at the pain. He refused to give him the satisfaction.

This was what he had always wanted to be. Now, he deeply regretted ever wishing for it. He thought that he would be promised power far greater than he could ever have imagined. No, he was now forced to live a life serving a madman. There was no way out.

"Your first task Draco," Voldemort announced loudly as he grabbed Draco by the shoulders and forced him to stand. "May just be the most important task I have ever asked one of my followers. Lord Voldemort will reward you greatly for your service. If you shall succeed, that is. Now, if you shall fail…"

Draco looked up at his mother and father, his hand clamped around the Dark Mark burned into his left arm.

"Say goodbye to mother and father. But, that may not be punishment enough for you. You have been disowned, am I right? What will be the price for you…Hmmm?"

Voldemort seemed to be pondering this very deeply, though Draco knew he was only mocking him.

"Shall we say…the Mudblood and…what is her name? Mira, is it?"

Bile rose in Draco's throat and a hatred surged through him so powerfully he could almost feel it vibrating through him.

"Don't," he rasped, still weakened from the curses inflicted upon him. "Please."

"If you succeed, I won't lay a hand on them. I'll leave them alone."

"What is it?" He forced himself to ask, dreading what it was. Naturally, it had to be some in accomplishable. Something to do with Harry Potter.

"Albus Dumbledore is the only person left in the way. If he were gone, my path would be clear. Kill Albus Dumbledore. I don't care how you do it. I want him dead. That's all you have to do, Draco. Kill Albus Dumbledore and your sweet Mudblood girlfriend and half-breed daughter will never be touched. Fail to do so and the consequences will be…let's say…not very pretty. You don't want to die, do you Draco? You don't want your girlfriend to die do you? You don't want your daughter to die? Do you?"

Narcissa couldn't keep the tears from streaming down her face. Lucius clutched her shoulder, tensing.

"This is your mission…if you wish to accept it."

Draco had to swallow hard to keep himself from throwing up all over his new master's bare feet. He forced himself to look that bastard right in the eye.

"It would be an honour. My Lord."

He had spent the night in the cold bathroom, retching over and over. He couldn't cry for what he had to do. He knew right off that he couldn't kill Albus Dumbledore in cold-blooded murder. He didn't want his daughter to grow up not having a father, because no doubt he would somehow end up in Azkaban for this one day. He didn't want Mira to only know her father as nothing but a murderer, a coward. Mira was only three weeks old. And her life was already hanging by a thread. He was that thread that was keeping her at bay from being in the hands of the Dark Lord.

As much as he didn't want to, Draco knew what he had to do. His daughter was more important than anything. His little girl could be dead within months, weeks even. Draco covered his face with his hands, pushing himself not to subside into tears.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door. "Draco?"

He flushed the toilet and stood up. "Come in."

Narcissa hovered near the doorframe, as though she was trying to make up her mind about something.

"What do you want, Mother?" Draco asked quietly, not being able to look her in the eye.

"I…" she started. "I heard about the baby. I want to offer my congratulations."

Draco stared stonily at the black tiled floor.

"I didn't think I would have a grandchildren this young."

"I bet you didn't think you would have a grandchildren who was only half-blood," he snapped at her coldly. She flinched slightly but positioned herself haughtily.

"I love you, Draco. And if you love this child of yours, then I will love her too." She suddenly looked at the ground, her forehead creased. "Draco, I know that I never contacted you these past months. I'm sure that you needed a parent to guide you through the journey of becoming a parent yourself. I argued with Lucius to let you back into our lives but he did not budge. I fear that...and I really should not say this but I fear that the Dark Lord has played with his head a bit too much."

Draco hurriedly wiped at his eyes, understanding.

"You know what you have to do, darling. The Mudblood-"

"Don't call her that!" Draco snapped feverishly. "Her name is Hermione. Use it or go away."

"Hermione," Narcissa continued as though there was no interruption, "And Mira. Their lives are in grave danger. I never wanted my son to be a murderer but as much as I hate to admit it, these two girls are now your family. And you are my son and I don't want to lose you."

"Mira's only three weeks old," Draco murmured, his voice breaking. "She's so tiny and she's so beautiful. She's changed my life. And he…he…" he couldn't finish. Narcissa nodded, tears forming again and Draco leaned his head on his mother's shoulder.

"I know, darling. I know."

xox

Draco knew that he could never wear short-sleeves in front of Hermione or roll up his school shirt ever in front of her. She could never know- it would kill her. He, unwillingly, becoming a Death Eater was bad enough. But if she ever knew that she and Mira would be killed if Draco didn't kill the Headmaster of Hogwarts…Draco didn't even want to think about how she would react.

The smell of pancakes wafted to Hermione's room and Draco suddenly realized how hungry he was. Down in the kitchen he found Mira in her rocker on the kitchen island and Hermione flipping pancakes.

"Smells good," he commented as he walked over to Mira and picked her up. Hermione yawned widely in response.

Draco stared down at his daughter's tiny face and wondered how anyone could ever want to hurt her. He was afraid that he was going to lapse into tears and so he went over to the cupboard, got out a glass and poured himself some cold water- anything to keep him from thinking it.

"Think you can help me tonight?" Hermione asked coldly as she brought the stack of pancakes over to the table.

"With?"

"With Mira. Draco, I'm so tired. I don't know if I can stay up all night. I don't know what happened at your old house and frankly, I really don't care. You left me all by myself for a whole week. This is exactly why I wanted to give Mira up for adoption. I was petrified that you would leave me. And for seven days, I thought you did."

Draco didn't reply, he just adjusted Mira in his arms and stroked his finger against her tiny palm.

"What did your father say?"

Draco looked up startled. "What?"

"Your father. What did he say when you were there? That's why you were there for that long, right?"

"We never spoke, my father and myself." It was true. Not one word was uttered between them the whole time Draco had been there. "My mother…has made amends."

Hermione smiled and took his free hand. "Well, that's good isn't it? You have your mother on your side at least."

"My mother may want me back in her life again but that doesn't mean that this is any easier. Her first loyalty will always lie to my father."

"Yes, of course," Hermione whispered, taking her hand from Draco's.

There was silence for a few moments before Hermione spoke again.

"Ron's invited me to stay at his house for the summer but I don't know if I can with Mira."

Draco mentally sneered at the mention of Ron Weasley's one-roomed shack but didn't say anything. Hermione wasn't in a very good mood.

"Do you want to go?"

Hermione shrugged but Draco knew the answer.

"If you want to go then go. I can look after Mira here."

Hermione let out a laugh. "You want to stay at my mother's house by yourself? No, I think we should go. All three of use."

Now it was Draco's turn to laugh. "Me? Stay with the Weasleys?"

"Yes! You said that you don't hate Ron anymore. Or Harry."

"We may be on speaking terms but I don't feel comfortable sharing a house with them."

"C'mon Draco! I think it will be good for us. You can get to know Harry and Ron better- it's very important to me that you get along with my best friends. Ginny will love to help me out with Mira and so will Mrs. Weasley. Besides, you know I'm not a fantastic cook and my mother certainly isn't either. Mrs. Weasley's food is even better than the food at Hogwarts."

Draco was tempted to say yes but he couldn't bring himself to. How would the Weasley's feel if they knew that they had a Death Eater staying at their house?

"You don't have to make up your mind just yet but please think about it. It's a lot of fun at the Burrow. It will…take your mind off things."

That's exactly what Draco needed. Distraction. Distraction from the dreaded task that he was forced to undertake. Distraction from seeing that face, so vivid in his nightmares.

Distraction from losing the only thing worth living for.

A/N: Yea I know I said I wouldn't be making a start on this any time soon but I just couldn't help it! Although, you may have to wait a while for chapter two. Sorry. I really hope you enjoyed- this has a much darker outtake than The Start of Our Lives does. It will follow the storyline to the Half-Blood Prince- my favourite HP book. Yay for Slughorn!

Oh yeah and Draco is a Death Eater

Stop judging me immediately

Review- tell me what you thought.