A/N: So, want to say a massive shoutout to the requests to bring this story back. It means the world to me to know that so many people missed this story and loved it as much as I did.

When I started this story, I hadn't yet found out I was expecting my daughter! Probably if I had, I wouldn't have started it then because I get VERY sick during my pregnancies. Many ER trips and hospital admissions later, my daughter is now one! I loved the idea of this story, but I knew it needed some work because I wrote it being incredibly malnourished lol.

So thanks to my beta, my love, xravenslight who is helping me beef it up and find all those nasty errors.

If your new, I hope you love it. If you're returning, I hope it's better than you remember.

All my love,

LadyKenz

Trigger Warning: There is a scene of non-con in this prologue. It is not graphic and not explictly depicted but, it is worth mentioning!

Prologue

October 16th, 2002

The brush was too thick, her feet barely finding their hold as she sprinted through it, while the air clung to her like a heavy cloak. Endless billows of smoke spread through the treeline as the setting sun lit their world on fire.

She was vaguely aware of distant screams and spells being cast, her instincts taking over as she rolled to her side, darting away from a jet of magic. All she could hear was the whooshwhooshwhoosh of blood pumping in her ears.

There was no way of knowing if they were winning or losing. Surrounded by death, it always felt like losing.

Her eyes spotted a giant boulder, and she whipped her head around to look behind her, but there was no one that she could see. She dove for the boulder and cowered behind it.

Gods, she hated this – hated war. Hated the endless suffocating feeling of never being safe – it was exhausting. Her soul was tired.

In times like this, she cursed Hogwarts. Cursed her magic. There was a life she'd never experience, a life with filled with mundane routines and a boring job. What she would give for boring right about now.

Instead she was here, drowning in death and smoke.

A rustle of leaves nearby nearly stopped her heart. Shit. Shitshitshitshit.

Before she could find the genesis of the noise, a husky voice rang out.

"Incarcerous!"

She held her breath, waiting for the spell to hit her but nothing happened. Nothing bound her; no one hovered over her. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to steady her ragged breathing, her hand clutching her wand so hard she thought it might snap.

"Let me go, you filthy fucking Death Eater." The unknown voice was oddly familiar, high pitched and grating. "Do you hear me?" She called again and Hermione sucked in a sharp breath. Ah yes. Lavendar Brown.

"Well, aren't you a pretty young thing. Blood status?"

"Fuck you." Hermione flinched as she heard what she believed to be Lavender spitting.

A hard crunch and a gargled scream filled the surrounding air, and Lavender's weeping sent shivers across Hermione's skin.

From the hollow sound of the Death Eater's voice, Hermione guessed his back was turned. She could stun him, she just needed to act – needed to move.

She sent intention into her limbs – willing herself to take a step. Nothing happened. Her body shook with fear and hesitation.

"Fuck me?" the deep voice boomed, "You don't have any common sense at all. I won't lie, I prefer brunettes, but who am I to be picky? Moblicorpus."

As she heard Lavendar fight against her constraints, muttering obscenities and growling, Hermione stood, her legs finally obeying. She trained her wand at the back of the Death Eater's head, begging for a spell to come to her brain – any spell would do.

She felt a sharp jab of a wand in her neck, and her heart sank. She had waited too long; now they were both dead, or worse.

"Drop your fucking wand," a familiar voice hissed in her ear – a voice she very much wished to never ran into again.

She obeyed, greeting death with reluctant acceptance.

"Petrificus Totalis," Draco Malfoy cast in a hushed voice, and Hermione fell like stone to the ground. He gave her a withering sneer before waving his wand over her, disillusioning her from view.

She could hear Lavender struggling nearby.

Draco's disappointed glare fell over her, his mouth screwed up in a lazy scowl. With a final shake of his head he stepped out from his cover.

"Rookwood, let's go. We're expected back," malfoy drawled.

"Junior! Give me a minute – I'm happy to share."

Hermione's stomach heaved.

"We're going to be late." Malfoy's voice was clipped, almost annoyed.

"I said give me a minute, you spoiled fucking brat."

"I'm leaving."

"Don't you dare fucking leave. I'm not through here."

"I can't help that you can't pass a fucking test without splinching yourself. I said let's go; I'm sick of fucking repeating myself."

Another crunch laced with a cry from a broken girl filled Hermione's ears.

"Every time you say that, I punch this girl in her fucking face. Do you understand me? Please do not make the mistake of thinking I give a shit what her face looks like."

Lavender heaved broken sobs, the kind that sunk deep into your bones and hollowed your soul out, and while Hermione knew that her one time blonde rival was experiencing far worse, there was some kind of unnatural torment to be forced to listen on. Hermione lay in forced silence as those sobs turned to screams which then turned to wails of pain.

She would kill Rookwood.

"You want a turn, Junior?" Rookwood questioned after Lavender's screams mixed with his grunts had died away into the night.

"Of course not," Malfoy spat, "I prefer my witches willing. Leave her. Let's go." There was beat of silence and Malfoy interjected quickly, "Rookwood! There's no ne—"

"Avada Kedavra!" His cast was lazy, but undoubtedly effective. "No need? Is that what you were about to say, Junior?"

"Stop fucking calling me that," Malfoy hissed.

"I think daddy might be interested to know you're going soft. She's a blood traitor. Filth."

There was a single derisive grunt followed by a snap of Apparition, and with it, the spell broke and Hermione gasped air in as though she had been starved of it. She barely made it to her knees before her stomach emptied onto the ground next to her.

Tears spilled over and rolled angrily down her cheeks as she crawled out from behind the rock, sobbing into the dirt.

She lifted her eyes, and there, only four or five feet from her, was the lifeless body of Lavender Brown, her once brilliant blue eyes now dulled by death. A sob broke through the quiet, and she clawed her way over to Lavendar.

Lavender's body had been broken. He had left her exposed and naked in the forest, no decency in her death, her face already almost unrecognizable – covered in blood and bruises that would never fully form.

She covered Lavender's body with her own – apologies pouring from her mouth and into the dirt as she tried to cover her with her ripped clothing, her clumsy hands not performing properly.

She couldn't handle this pain. It was unbearable, she wouldn't survive it, and she didn't deserve to. She laid down next to Lavender's body and curled into herself. A numbness spread over her.

No one comes back from this. Not even Hermione Granger.