DISCLAIMER: I don't own HP. If I did own it, Draco wouldn't be such an ass and Hermione wouldn't be hung up on Ronald Weasley...

We Were Marked

OOO – Hermione – OOO

Tears rapidly slid down my face, across my temples and into my hair line where I imagined they were caught, just glistening there. I could feel my body cowering against the cold, stone floor where my blood was already forming into one huge puddle. This had been going on for too long. I didn't know where Harry and Ron were being kept. They could have been killed. They might not be breathing. They could have left me. Here. Alone. To die. My hands were shaking uncontrollably as I clenched them into fists before loosening them and tightening them again. There were cuts that had been sliced into my arms and legs, stinging and burning into my flesh. This had been going on for too long.

"Get up, Mudblood, now", Bellatrix shrieked, stomping her foot like an angered child. "Up! Get to your feet, you filthy little Mudblood".

A weak 'no' left my lips before another ear-splitting scream erupted from my throat, echoing around the large room. I didn't want to show how much she was hurting me but it was becoming more difficult. My screams and sobs couldn't be held in anymore. She had cast the Cruciatus Curse approximately ten… No, maybe it had been fifteen times? Actually, could it have been worse? How much more could I possibly take? I couldn't even think straight. My mind was reeling with possibilities but none of them seemed to fit well enough with what was happening. All I knew was that death was a card on my table.

"I will ask you again, slowly", she whispered eerily, closer to me than I thought she would be, "and you will tell me the truth or I swear on my lovely cousin's grave. Do you see this knife? It'll be rammed straight through your heart, understand? How did you find my sword? Did that dirty, little goblin in the cellar help you? Did he get you into my vault, huh?"

My breath came out in ragged pants, "It's not the real one. That's not the real sword, I swear. It's just a fake. A copy, just a copy. I found it in-"

She screamed manically, "Lies! Lies! Lies! Lies! Is that all you Mudbloods do? Lie? That isn't a wise move when you are with someone better than you. Someone superior to you, filth".

I could feel the cold metal of the knife pricking the skin of my forearm, taunting me with its power. Little stabs of pain came every time she drew pack then dug the point of the knife deeper into my flesh. Suddenly, Bellatrix pushed the sharp metal straight into my skin and my eyes rolled back, my vision blurring from the new injury. Everything had just become about ten times worse. The pain, the screams, the crazy laugh of the witch above me, the eyes that watched my torture. It was all worse. All I could do was keep on screaming and pleading for this to end. I wanted someone to help. Someone to take this memory away from me. To take this nightmare away. How much I wished that this was a bad dream, and I that would wake up soon.

"Now, how about we label you as what you are?" The crazed witch cackled.

I could feel her dragging the knife along my skin, deep enough that I knew it would scar but shallow enough not to take too much blood. No magic would hide this, I knew that. She had told me so. Earlier, she had said that it was cursed, this knife, so that every piece of damage would stay visible for the rest of the victim's life.

"All done".

She stood up, stretching her arms over her head before swinging them back down by her sides. An extremely smug look crossed her features before she was smirking again. My eyes moved from her horrid face to my left forearm, where I saw the word that would be reminding me of what I truly was for the rest of my life. Mudblood. It was right there, in a messy scrawl, droplets of blood trailing down my flesh like the tears from my eyes. In defeat, I allowed my eyes to slide closed, preparing myself for my death.

Memories of my life flashed before me, causing a small smile to drift over my lips.

My first day of Muggle primary school…

The day my Hogwarts letter arrived…

Sitting on the Hogwarts Express…

Meeting Ron and Harry for the first time…

The troll incident…

The Chamber of Secrets being reopened…

Mudblood, Mudblood, Mudblood…

Time travel…

Meeting Harry's godfather, Sirius Black…

Victor Krum…

Saying 'goodbye' to Mum and Dad…

Horcrux hunt…

Snatchers…

…

Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco…

Draco Malfoy!

My eyes snapped open, searching and scanning the walls that were encased by shadows but I couldn't keep my eyes from closing. The blood loss was getting to me. Where was he? As soon as I had been brought into this hall, I had noticed the hollow look in his eyes that had burned out the storm I knew so well. Where was he?

Muttering quietly, my voice barely audible, I let my head spin, "Draco, I need you. Where are you? I need your help, Draco. Help, please. It hurts so badly. Draco…"

And that was when darkness gripped me, dragging me further and further under the drowsy waves until I felt a lulling sleep clutch me, taking me away from the torture and pain.

OOO – Draco – OOO

Her screams were terrifying but when the stopped, I think my heart froze. I stood, hidden in the further corner, watching silently as Hermione Granger, Little Miss Know-It-All, was being tortured by my mad aunt. For the first time since the Yule Ball, I noticed the tears streaming down her face, the light catching on each droplet. She was the only girl that had shed a tear and managed to get me to care. From the night of the Ball, I had managed to keep tabs on her because I knew she would be important to the Dark Lord. He knew about her, that was a fact. Everyone, I think, knew about the smartest witch since Rowena Ravenclaw. Her skills were flawless and I envied her.

She had everything I had ever wanted. A good family. A great set of friends. An amazing reputation despite her blood status. I could wish to have all of that.

"I broke her!" Aunt Bella sang cheerfully, "I broke the Mudblood".

My heart thudded in my chest as I took a step out of the shadows, scanning the body of Hermione. Her clothes were shredded, injuries were scattered across her body and I noticed the one word that I had named her scraped in her arm. She had been marked. Maybe not in the way that I had been but she had a Mark of her own now. Mudblood.

"Draco, my boy, I've got a chore for you to do", my aunt skipped up to me before bending down to my ear. "I want you to dispose of the little piece of filth".

Shock coursed through my body when I heard that word. Dispose. I masked my emotions well. Nodding once, I strode towards the still body of my classmate before leaning down to scoop her limp body into my arms, bridal style. Her blood, clean and pure, was being soaked into my crisp, white shirt but I didn't care. Ignoring the whispers that erupted from the Death Eaters in the room, I continued to speed walk out of the 'ballroom' without a second glance back. Father was yelling at me, questioning my loyalty. Mother was sobbing against him. Aunt Bella, well, she was shrieking about how I was a disgrace to the Malfoy and Black family line.

But I did not care.

An almost silent mutter caught my attention, "Draco, help us…"

And that was the plan. I would help Hermione. I would help us.

We had too much to fight for.

We had too much to do.

We had each other.

We were Marked…

So you can review if you please. This was quite weird to write because usually I'm all for the Death Eaters but hey now... Things change all the time...

Like my eye colour... Weird, huh?