A/N: Hey guys! Here is a new story that I am starting, based on the real life program called Filles du Roi, in which the King (of France) would send young women to the colonies to get married and help the bolster the population. This is a variation on that, an AU obviously, with King Voldemort and a colony of Death Eaters. I have done a little research, but not too much. You should consider this to be set approximately in the 1600s. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) to get sneak peeks and the like.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two soon!

Hermione remembered that fateful day seven years ago, when she was taken from her parents, with scorn. Even though she was now a woman, it seemed just a few months had passed since she was stolen, while simultaneously feeling like an age.

She'd been a happy, yet solitary, child, daughter to Richard and Jean Granger. Her father had been educated as a surgeon in France before moving back to England and settling down with his wife, who volunteered her time as a nurse. Richard was widely known for his teeth extractions, removing pain from hundreds of people throughout the county. They weren't part of the genteel class, but they did quite well for themselves, and never went without food or comfort.

Hermione was raised comfortably, her parents able to afford a private tutor for her, as she was considered quite gifted with intelligence. Hermione had dreams of going to University, perhaps becoming a surgeon as well, or going the Royal Academy of Sciences.

But, as intelligent as Hermione was, it was undeniable that something was different about her. From an exceptionally young age, it was noted that strange things always happened around her, almost as if it was magic. Books she would want would fly to her, animals were drawn to her, and she had a nasty habit of breaking things to pieces when she was upset, all without lifting a finger.

So, when the woman came to their house, it couldn't be said that Richard and Jean were surprised that there was something different about their Hermione. The woman sat on their settee in a tight pink dress that barely contained her flesh, scooping spoonful after spoonful of sugar into her tea - causing Richard much distress - and told them that their daughter was special. She was a witch.

Dolores Umbridge told them about a wonderful school that Hermione could come to, be educated, and learn to control her gifts. The only thing was that Hermione would not be able to come home for seven years, until she completed her education.

Looking at her parents with wobbling lip and watery eyes, Hermione begged them not to send her away. She promised she'd learn to control her magic on her own, and she'd never tell anyone that there was something wrong with her.

Her parents, eyes glazed and expression serene, told her it was a wonderful opportunity and signed the paperwork for Dolores Umbridge to take her away to the magical world. With a wave of her wand - a short wooden stick - all of Hermione's things were shrunk and packed away, and she was being lead away from her childhood home, tears streaming from her cheeks.

When they arrived in the magical world, Hermione was quick to learn that the magical school that Umbridge had promised to her parents didn't exist. Or, if it did exist, that it wasn't where she was brought. Instead, she was taken to Merope Gaunt's Home for Half-Blood and Mudblood Girls.

Mudblood.

Hermione quickly learned that's what she was and that the word was a bit of a slur. It made her lower than low in this society that she'd been forced into. If she had it her way, Hermione would have liked to go back to her parents. She'd prefer to live life as a muggle.

The home was run by two women who could not have been more opposite. Dolores Umbridge managed the administrative side of things, while Minerva

McGonagall had taken care of the teaching side. Hermione had been promised that she would taught, but she soon learned that she wouldn't be allowed a wand like the half-blood girls.

It stung. Sure, she'd been different, even lonely, but at least Hermione knew that she was destined for great things. In this magical society, she was told that she was barely fit to serve the pureblood upper echelon of society, controlled tightly by King Voldemort. It hadn't taken Hermione long to form a negative opinion of the despot.

There were several other mudblood girls in the home with her. Lily Evans had been a beautiful, kind young woman, who took Hermione under her wing when she first arrived. According to Lily, there had been a time, before King Voldemort, that muggleborns could go to Hogwarts and own a wand, just like any other witch or wizard. But then, Lily had aged out of the program and one day she just wasn't at the home any more.

Myrtle Warren, called Moaning Myrtle by the rest of the girls, was constantly crying, and Hermione couldn't spare her time for the girl. Penelope Clearwater was a few months older than Hermione, but the blonde girl detested her for constantly questioning Umbridge. The muggleborn girls frequently shared punishments if one of them stepped out of line, and Hermione had brought about her share of punishments.

If there was one thing that Umbridge hated, it was being questioned. Umbridge was always singing King Voldemort's praises and she'd been lauded several times for keeping such degenerate girls in line, but Hermione didn't believe the propaganda. From the day that she'd dragged Hermione from the muggle world, kicking and screaming, the pink witch had loathed Hermione and wanted her gone as soon as possible.

That was fine with Hermione. She didn't particularly fancy sticking around.

The one bright spot in the Merope Gaunt Home for Half-Blood and Mudblood Girls was Minerva McGonagall. The older woman had previously worked at Hogwarts, but protested the treatment of muggleborns during Voldemort's rise to power. Apparently, she was told if she loved mudbloods so much, so could go teach them, and was thusly sent to teach at the home.

While Umbridge hated Hermione, Minerva saw great potential in the young girl, shocked by the raw magical talent that she had. Minerva was dismayed that Hermione would only be learning household cleaning and mild healing charms. Things that might help when they eventually aged out and were sent to work with pureblood families.

Minerva could only imagine the power that Hermione could wield if she were allowed a wand, but she didn't dare even allow the girl to try anything with her own wand, due to the severe repercussions. It could mean death for both her and Hermione.

Still, it didn't stop Minerva from telling Hermione about how wonderful the wizarding world had been before Voldemort and all the wonderful things she could have learned if she'd been properly educated. She would lend the younger girl runes and arithmancy books - magic that could be taught without a wand - and Hermione proved to be an excellent student.

Sometimes, she imagined what Severus could have done with her capable mind. She was a natural hand at the potions brewing they did at home - nothing more complicated than a pepperup potion. Minerva cursed herself that she hadn't devoted more time to learning potions, as she would have liked to teach Hermione some more advanced potions.

Minerva had argued with Dolores many times to appeal to have Hermione taught by a proper potions master, or even an increased budget for potions ingredients, but the stubborn witch had refused, determined to make the bright mudblood's life as worthless as possible.

If Dolores had her way, mudbloods wouldn't even be brought into their society any more. As soon as their birth was recorded in the Ministry, they would be located and drowned. They were unnatural and caused more trouble than they were worth.

Dolores couldn't wait for the day that Hermione Granger would be gone from the Home, shipped off to some pureblood family. She would have to match the stubborn witch with a traditional family, with no aversion to corporeal punishment, as that seemed to be the only way to get any message through to the girl.

Yes, maybe the Blacks. Arcturus Black was very old and would need a lot of help around his household, but he was well known for his mudblood hatred. He wouldn't let this girl get away with anything.

Owl post was something that had consistently amazed Hermione since she'd been dragged into the wizarding world. She longed to learn how the owls knew where to go, but it seemed that it was a mystery even to Minerva, which Hermione thought was a bit ironic, given her Roman namesake's affinity with the creatures.

Hearing Umbridge's girlish giggle after receiving the wizarding post had Hermione immediately set on edge. It could only mean something awful was about to happen, as the woman wasn't capable of enjoying anything truly good. She took delight in the pain and misery of others.

Internally, Hermione prepared herself. She knew this was probably the time that she was aged out of the home and some appropriately awful pureblood wizarding family would be taking her in. Even though she didn't fancy working for others, it gave her hope that she might be able to get hold of a wand. It was likely that they were more lax with wand security than Umbridge.

But what the letter contained ended up being much worse than Hermione excepted. "Our most gracious King has created such a generous program, girls." Hermione bristled at her words, not wanting anything to do with King Voldemort. "There is to be an expedition to Canada, where they have started a new colony. Miss Granger has been selected to participate on my recommendation."

Hermione's brows furrowed, wondering what purpose sending her to a colony would have. Surely, she would be able to escape a colony with much more ease than the established Wizarding community that she currently resided in. Luckily, she wasn't the only one who was confused with the pronouncement. "Just what is the purpose of this colony, Delores?" Minerva asked, her brogue stern and firm.

Umbridge giggled again. "Well, Minerva, the colony is almost entirely populated by male Death Eaters, and the King would like to see a vast expansion of their numbers." The pink woman smirked at Hermione, while dropping another lump of sugar into her tea.

"I beg your pardon, Dolores, but does our King know that Hermione is muggleborn?" Minerva asked delicately. Usually, the Death Eaters were quite the blood purists, and she couldn't imagine Hermione joining their ranks. "It's not as if she can become a Death Eater."

"Oh Minerva." Umbridge chided her, with a condescending smile. "Miss Granger isn't going to become a Death Eater. She's going to marry one and give him as many children as King Voldemort requires." Umbridge looked at Hermione and gave her a mean little giggle.

Hermione dropped her spoon at that news. She was absolutely shocked. Getting married was never something that she had planned on since she'd been pulled into this world. Who would take her, after all? "Why would they send me, and not…" Not a good pureblood girl, her mind provided, traitorously.

"Well, Miss Granger, King Voldemort knows that he can't take pureblood girls from their families. They would never consent to their daughters being sent to the wilderness." Umbridge told her, only too happy to divulge the thought process. "But, in order to make the marriage desirable to the Death Eaters, he has offered to pay the dowry of every girl that goes to Canada. I have been assured that he is paying quite handsomely."

It turned Hermione's stomach that not only could King Voldemort dictate who she was going to marry, send her to a new country, but would pay a dowry for it as well. It seemed a bit odd. Umbridge couldn't resist one more jab. "It's being called Filles du Roi! You should be so lucky to have the King take over your fatherly duties." Hermione didn't much like the idea of Voldemort acting as her father.

But...she wouldn't give Umbridge the satisfaction of seeing her cry at the breakfast table, so she kept her eyes on her porridge, trying to think of anything else but going to Canada.

In the weeks that followed Umbridge's pronouncement, Hermione wasn't allowed to attend lessons, and instead was instructed to begin building a Hope Chest to take with her on her journey. Hermione was glad that one was provided for her, because she thought that Umbridge might just force her to go chop down a tree to make one herself, mocking her poor carpentry skills all the while.

Hermione did take her time working embroidering spells into her linens and tablecloths, as she was quite gifted with household magic. Or rather, she was skilled with all kinds of magic, but she hadn't been able to flourish at the Home. Hermione also packed all assortments of clothing that she'd been provided, though she thought that the low cut robes and corsets wouldn't do very well in the wilderness of Canada.

Umbridge had insisted that Hermione hand sew her own wedding dress, and provided her with some coarse linen, but when Minerva saw it, she said it wouldn't do. Instead, the older woman provided Hermione with fabric she'd saved for her own wedding, before Minerva's betrothed had died in the Uprising.

The white lace and silk fabric was beautiful, but unfortunately for Hermione, better quality fabric didn't make her a better quality sewer. To her joy, it became something of a nighttime activity to help Hermione sew her dress, with both Penelope and Myrtle helping her. Penelope was quite good at fashioning the dress together, and Myrtle added ornamental beads.

In the end, the dress looked quite beautiful, but it hurt Hermione's heart to think of actually wearing it. It made her long for her parents. She couldn't imagine getting married without them by her side, to a groom she'd never met. To make matters worse, she knew that Death Eaters had quite a reputation for being violent and hating muggleborns. What if her husband hurt her?

Her fears were constantly on her mind and each day that ticked by left Hermione feeling more and more anxious. She began crying herself to sleep at night, only to scold herself for acting too much like Moaning Myrtle. At least if she was in Canada, she'd be out from under Umbridge's thumb, though she would miss Minerva greatly.

One day, not long before Hermione was to leave, Minerva spoke to her after lessons were complete for the day. "Oh, Hermione. I wish that you didn't have to go through this." She opined, and wrapped Hermione in a tight hug. For a girl who rarely had any human touch, it was difficult not to cry.

Minerva had pulled back and wiped the tears from Hermione's eyes. "There, there. Don't cry lass." She said, motherly and warm. "I have some good news for you. Come, let's sit next to the fire."

Hermione eagerly sat on a chair next to Minerva, eager to read whatever was said on those papers in her mentors hands. "Well, what is it? Am I ineligible?" She could hope so much.

She shook her head, wry smile on her face. "No, you are eligible, but the decree was written very broadly, so as to encourage as many families as possible to participate and send their daughters. You cannot be compelled to marry."

Hermione wanted to whoop with joy, but knew that there must be more to it than just that. Taking the papers - the entirety of the decree creating the Filles du Roi program - she let her greedy eyes read over them. There were all kinds of rules, but there were also protections.

"See here." Minerva pointed out a passage. "You have to be chosen, but if you aren't chosen-" she trailed her finger further down the parchment, "after a year, you can keep the dowry."

The young woman couldn't keep the smile from her face. "That would be wonderful. It's so much money." Her eyes widened at the dowry amount. "I could buy land there then, start over. Maybe I could even come back to Britain eventually."

Minerva smiled, encouraged that Hermione's life wouldn't be too terrible. "Exactly. Think of the opportunity that that much money could provide for you, Hermione. Just keep your chin up, it won't be so terrible."

Hermione felt hopeful for the first time in weeks. She'd also get to keep the contents of her Hope Chest, which, while it wasn't a complete household, it would go a long way in getting a house up and running.

"And…" Minerva continued, shuffling some papers. "If you look here, there is even a provision for a divorce, if the marriage isn't well suited after a year. Even the bride can initiate the proceedings."

"Why wouldn't Umbridge tell me any of this?" Hermione asked, no longer worried about the expedition. It was beginning to seem like a fun adventure for her.

Minerva gave her an incredulous look. "Why do you think? Dolores has disliked you since the moment you came here. She wants to cause you as much discomfort as possible."

"Oh, Minerva." Hermione said suddenly. "I am going to miss you so much." Hermione whispered to the other woman, who had become something like a mother to her in the last seven years that she'd been at the Home. Minerva was the only one who saw any potential in Hermione, believed in her at all, and she couldn't imagine not having her support any longer.

Minerva smoothed her hair. "I will miss you too, Hermione. But I know that you will make me proud." Standing, the woman offered Hermione a hand to shake, which Hermione gladly accepted. "Now, best of luck to you."