A/N: So this is the revised version of chapter one, which has been edited amazingly I might add, since allegedly I neglect my full stops and rarely make sense my grammar Nazi editor cleaned it up a bit. Hopefully it reads better this time around.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used in this fiction (and what a pitty that is) the only thing that belongs to me is the spelling and grammatical errors.

Chapter 1

Dark rings circled dull eyes that matched her once auburn hair; sleep seemed to be the least of her worries as Hermione and her friends made their way to Hogwarts. She was in her 6th year and had been chosen to be a prefect no less. This should have been a cause for great excitement for the young witch, yet, as the journey stretched on, it felt more like a well-practiced routine.

She, Hermione Jean Granger, the girl who was born to stand out, wanted nothing more than to hide, as she buried her face deeper into her dress robes trying to block out the argument that was surely about to unfold in front of her. It was as it had always been: every year the three friends could be found in the same place, flanked by the new additions to their group, which included the youngest of the Weasley clan, Ginny, Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. Their conversation was tired by now and their fighting was relentless, as they fought the same arguments, pointing out the same flaws, seeming no closer to finding a solution.

As Hermione gazed out the window into the country side, she felt a wave of peacefulness wash over her. If only she could escape the nightmare that lay in front of her, if only she could trade her life for one that offered freedom she might have been able to find that peace her mind so desperately sought. Her thoughts were so exhilarating that she almost got lost in them all together, inviting in the darkness and with it the peace, if not for the hand on her shoulder drawing her back to the conversation, maybe she would have given in.

The brunette looked up into the eyes she knew so well, and her heart broke when she saw the now familiar torment behind those once warm green eyes. His voice did little to hide the torment and turmoil he was feeling, as he seemed to tremble as his words rolled passed his lips, "Mione, what do you think all of this, what should we do?"

"What should we do?" It was an honest question, but how should she know? As the brains of the infamous Golden Trio, so much was expected from her, even more than she had ever expected from herself. How could she look into those eyes and tell him that everything would be alright when she didn't even know if she could keep herself together anymore?

So she told him part of the truth instead, "I don't know Harry, after the ministry, after..." Her voice shook from the emotion that she had been trying to hold back; she couldn't bring herself to actually say his name, not yet. So instead the young witch took a jagged breath and continued, "…after everything that's happened, Harry, there's a war coming that none of us are prepared for."

"We're going to be there right with you though mate." Up until now, Ron hadn't really spoken, only throwing in a passionate comment here and there whilst he spent his time examining the floor, his hands or even the empty seat next to him. He was never good at dealing with his feelings so instead he kept to himself.

"It's just well, the papers have been at it all summer and I'm not sure we can do what all these people expect us to do you know?"

"They don't expect you to do anything Ron!" The red head shuddered under the cold tone his friends voice had suddenly taken. Even though they had gotten used to Harry's temper over the years, it still hurt, because, they knew that when he went off at them he was really tearing himself up inside. His breathing became erratic as he breathed his words out.

"They expect me to save them all Ron. Not you, not even Hermione. They expect me to do this. The chosen one, "The Boy Who Lived"! Even Dumbledore expects me to be this big hero but I'm not. I couldn't even save Sirius..."

The last words hadn't even left his lips before Hermione had pulled him into her arms, his head burying beneath her dark curls. This little action had become a routine over the holidays, as she had held him this way all summer as he mourned. Between Ginny and herself, they had made sure Harry was never left alone, because if he had been his nightmares would surely come back.

"Harry," her voice shook as she whispered. "It's not your fault. None of us could have saved him, but don't let his death be for nothing! We will stop Voldemort." The involuntary shudder that passed over both boys as she spoke His name just further fuelled her determination to protect them. They were all they had.

The red head had moved to sit next to them, his arms awkwardly joining Hermione's around Harry. "Don't worry mate, things will get better." As he spoke he looked up sheepishly at the other trio of friends that sat opposite them. They were truly all they had. They were the last of Dumbledore's Army, the future of the Order of the Phoenix and quite possibly the wizarding worlds only hope.

~Page break~

The Malfoy manor was all but empty, as the raids continued. The Dark Lord had claimed it as a safe house of sorts and as such, Death Eaters appeared in great numbers everyday seeking the shelter and food that was offered behind the cold walls of the manor. Much to Narcissa's dismay, being the lady of the manor it was of course her honour to provide the Death Eaters with all that they required - or so her husband had insisted, as he beat it into her upon her protests of the arrangement. She was a far cry from a "damsel in distress". Narcissa Malfoy was an accomplished witch and potions master, easily capable of out duelling the inner circle of the Dark Lords ranks. However, she had refused to take up the dark mark, as she was not loyal to any cause or anyone, with the exception of her sister and son. She had married into the Malfoy family and became subservient to her spineless husband as a ploy to stay close to and protect her beloved sister, Bellatrix.

These thoughts often entered her mind as she aimlessly wondered the hallways of her manor; she had taken to forcing herself to walk at least once a day in order to stretch her aching legs. She had been seated beside her frail sisters' body all through the summer, as Bellatrix's demons tormented her once more. After facing the Cruciatus curse at the hands of the filthy half blood and then again by the Dark Lord, for her failure to retrieve the prophecy during the battle at the ministry, Bellatrix had become prone to her madness once more.

Her sister hadn't always been crazy - not until Azkaban at least. She suffered unimaginable pain, with no good memories from her childhood to protect her; she had also suffered a great loss at the hands of the Order. As all those inner demons came rushing back, her Bella had snapped. Narcissa had to administer potions every half hour for the pain and cast silencing spells to drown out her screams. She had reached the end of her rope and was about to consider Obliviating her sister, just to save what was left of her sanity. However, as the spell was about to slip from her lips, Bellatrix had snapped back into reality as if nothing had occurred at all.

As Narcissa rounded the corner, making her way past the library towards the older witch's room, she recognised the fierce green glow of the fire place and she cursing under her breath, she took off in the direction of her sister's room once more. It could mean only one thing.

"Bella, get up!" Narcissa's shrill breathless voice could be heard from the passage way leading to the hidden entrance of her room, minutes before the door burst open.

"Cissy leave me be, I wish to sleep." Bellatrix's words were barely out before her blanket was forcefully removed with one sharp movement, that complemented the cold air that harshly met her exposed skin.

Bellatrix's wand was in hand and at the throat of the younger witch before she could even think to draw her own. She cursed once more under her breath as she stared defiantly into the older witch's piercing black eyes.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't hex you right this instance Cissy?"

Narcissa didn't even falter, as she composed herself to mimic an ice queen persona of upper class and proprietary. The only emotion she showed was through her glare that was securely fixed on her older sister.

Narcissa whispered in a harsh tone, "He is here."

And with that she spun on her heel and left the older witch in a state of frenzy.

The library was the heart of the manor, as it surely was the only heart to be found within such a place despite the many people who resided within it. The walls were stacked from the floor to the ceilings with mountains of books - surely more books than one person could ever read in a hundred life times. The fire place stood in its monstrous glory in the corner of the room, providing the only heat the manor would ever emit and in front of the fire stood well used, yet expensive looking couches. The library was in fact the only room that showed signs of being lived in, as it was where the two sisters often spent their days.

Standing by the fire, looking as formidable as ever, stood the Dark Lord himself. As Bellatrix entered the room, she immediately felt the burn of her mark, reminding her to whom she belonged.

"Ahh Bella, please have a seat there is much to discuss." As he spoke, he gestured to the couches in front of where he stood; he had never come across as anything less than a gentleman with a severely sadistic streak. "Your sister has informed me that you have made a full recovery."

"Yes my Lord."

Bellatrix was one of the few who were ever able to meet her Lords eyes as she spoke. "I look forward to re-joining your ranks." The implications of her words were undeniable as was the manic grin that spread across her features as she spoke. Bellatrix Black was out for blood after being kept away from the action for so long and her Lord would satisfy her needs, as it was what fuelled her loyalty towards him.

The Dark Lord rested his eyes steadily on his most loyal servant as he spoke to her in a tone befitting a father, "Your skills have always been of high value to me Bellatrix, but I must ask for your patience, as I require your skills once more for a mission only you are able to achieve."

"I'm at your full disposal my Lord."