Here is the story that I promised over a year ago. (ok almost 2 years ago) There will be time travel, de-aging, good bad guys and very bad good-guys as well as an old-fashioned love story with four people involved. I know you hear about those all the time. LOL. Updates will be sporadic as with most of my stories. They are dependent on real life and my muse's issues. I truly hope that you enjoy my story. Reviews are always welcomed but never required. Thank you for reading!

To Serve the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black

January 2001

It was time. The Noble House of Black had ended with the fall of Draco Malfoy. There were no other Black's to take up the mantel of Patriarch or Matriarch. Through the years, one by one and in two's and three's the Black family and its descendants had all perished.

From the main branch of Blacks, to the cadet branches of the family, such as the Prewitts, the Weasleys, the Longbottoms, the Flints, the LeStranges, the Potters and now the final member, Draco Abraxas Malfoy dead at the age of 21. He was killed by his best friend and sometimes lover Theodore Nott who was following orders under the Imperious curse that Malfoy Senior had claimed to be under years before.

It was the final battle; the end of it all. The Golden Trio and Wizarding Britain had foolishly believed that the Battle of Hogwarts in May of 1998 had been the final battle. They had believed that even with the losses that they had suffered that the light had won the war against the dark or what was the end of Tom Riddle, best known as Lord Voldemort and by his followers as The Dark Lord. They had believed that by destroying his Horcruxes that they had defeated the evil in their world and that they could begin again. The school could be rebuilt, two thirds of the Golden Trio could join the Auror Academy and Hermione Granger could pass her N.E.W.T.s with the highest scores ever seen and go to work for the Ministry of Magic to fight for the welfare of Magical Creatures.

They had destroyed all of Voldemort's Horcruxes, what they didn't realize was that he was not the only person evil enough to create them and Wormtail was not the only Wizard or Witch asinine enough to resurrect the dead.

Chapter One

Cold winds whipped through the home of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. As the door crashed against the wall and the broken body of the last Member of The Order of the Phoenix fell over the threshold the wards surrounding the property shuddered. All of a sudden, the door was slammed shut by the hand of the ever-helpful last loyal creature of the ancient house prompting the former owner to begin to scream obscenities.

"Filth, Mudblood, worthless magic stealer, stain living in my home." Screamed the portrait of Walburga Black.

At this familiar rant, the young woman lying on the floor, obviously trying to catch her breath started to chuckle and then began to wheeze as she peered up at the portrait through the curtain of her overgrown hair.

"Honey, I'm home, you rotten old windbag." Crawling over to the bottom of the once grand staircase and grabbing onto the railing to pull herself up, Hermione Jean Granger glared at the portrait of the former homeowner as she slumped on the bottom step. Allowing her eyes to narrow into slits, she felt her body tense as the lingering effects of the cruciatus curse flowed through her body. The firing of her nerve endings brought a strangled breath through her teeth as her hands clenched into fists and her teeth ground against each other.

Her parents would have cringed at such a sound. If they had been alive and if they had known that they had a child that they had raised to be mindful of these things, they would have been appalled.

"Kreacher" croaked Hermione from the stairway.

"Yes, Miss Mudblood, what may I do for you today?" Asked Kreacher looking up to her and seeing that she was not doing well. Not well at all.

"Please serve me the finest tea that can be found in this house of horrors in the prettiest of tea cups that we have and prepare it for myself and Wally. We need to have a chat, your mistress and I."

Sitting up as straight as she could, she could feel the curse wounds that she had received earlier fighting at Draco's and Theo's sides and trying to protect both from the remaining Death Eaters and other wizards that had been running rampant through London, destroying the lives of Muggles and Muggleborns. They canvassed the city killing in the most inventive and horrific ways, those that opposed their message. Those that did not believe in their words.

The opposition had gotten the list from Hogwarts of the newborn muggleborn witches and wizards and killed them before they reached their fifth day of life, going on and destroying their families to ensure that they did not try and procreate again and risk bringing another magical child into the world. They believed that they had somehow stolen magic from the pureblood witches and wizards and for that they must forfeit their lives.

They tracked down every member of the Order of the Phoenix and their supporters and killed them slowly for not supporting the new Dark Lord that had risen. They were hunting for Hermione for being the most well-known muggleborn left alive and when they found out that she was supported by both Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott they killed them in the worst way possible.

They had Theo turn on Draco through use of the Imperious curse and kill him slowly, all the while Hermione watched crying inside as she was helpless and wandless to do anything. When Draco took his last breath, looking straight at Theo, the curse was dropped and with a scream Theo turned his wand on everyone that he could see and threw cutting curse after entrails expelling curse, saving the Avada Kadavra for his own father whom had ordered the use of his son to kill Draco. Just as the curse left his lips and descended on his father, another called out and ended his life with the same curse. The look on his face as he fell before Draco was heartbreaking. He was at peace, knowing that he would once again be with his love.

All eyes turned to her as she drooped in her captors' arms. Tears falling down her face as she realized she was the only one left. The last Order of the Phoenix member, the last member of Dumbledore's Army, the last remaining muggleborn in Britain. With a scream torn from the core of her magic she blasted away the two wizards holding onto her and disapparated from the room, through the wards and anti-apparation jinxes and found herself on the stoop of Grimmauld place inside the anti-muggle wards, not that there were any muggles left in this area of town.

Once Death Eaters had realized that The Order of The Phoenix's headquarters was there at Grimmauld Place, they tried to burn those out, the remaining muggles had left town. What the witches and wizards weren't counting on were the protections that The Ancient and Noble House of Black had built into the building. The protections that Hermione could now feel start to shift around her with the almost sentient magic of the townhome and the famous family tree's acknowledgement of Draco's death. The last Black scion was dead, and Hermione no longer had the protection of the manor from the evils outside her door.

Sitting up straighter and hissing as she felt the shift of her ribs where they were fractured, she took small even breaths to lessen the strain on her lungs and to avoid the accidental puncture of one of them. She shifted her legs, dismayed at the sluggishly bleeding marks upon them. Lifting a shaking and bloody hand to her head, she pushed her hair away from her eyes so that she could look the at the painting directly. Niceties must still be acknowledged.

The return of Kreacher, along with the requested tea and biscuits found Hermione struggling to remain upright, but with the probability of her imminent if not immediate death. She had a few things that she wanted to say before leaving this mortal coil to begin her next adventure, hopefully as nothing more than a muggle shop girl of average intelligence, with loving parents and unknown friends.

Tea cup in hand Hermione looked straight at Mrs. Black and voiced her observations to the only remaining knowing offender left.

"Well Wally, I can't believe that I am about to say this, but you have won," taking a sip of what would probably be her last cup of tea, she drank deeply, trying not to focus on the wounds that riddled her body. Looking up at the for once silent portrait, she met her eyes once again. "The war that began with Grindlewald before your time and escalated into Tom Riddle's time, the time of your life, your husbands', your children's lives, your cousins and siblings and their children, is still going strong. What is left of the Pureblood witches and Wizards have decimated the muggleborns, the half-blood's and the blood traitors. They have won. I am the last of the muggleborns and I honestly don't believe that I will make it through the night.

There will be no more resistance, we have fallen, we have failed, but I will go to my grave knowing, that though I have failed and the purebloods have won, I will die happy knowing that I got to tell the crazy bitch of a portrait that has bad mouthed me for the last seven years that her entire family is gone. The last of The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black has died without issue and it is your fault, you crazy arse bitch!