Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

This is a fic for the Voldemort wins challenge by UriFanfiction.

This fic was first inspired by an alternate scene from the video game Haunting Ground. If you don't know the game, it's a horror story about a girl named Fiona waking up in a creepy mansion, inhabited by insane beings that chase her and try to do her harm. She is accompanied by a faithful dog who tries to protect her. Anyways, the alternate ending shows a tragic scenario in which Fiona has become insane herself and is impregnated by the enemy. I've never played the game all the way through, but I did watch a walkthrough. Since I found the challenge, I decided to alter this idea to fit it. In this fic, it's Hermione that suffers a possible loss of sanity after Voldemort's rise.

summary: Voldemort's won and the very wise Hermione Granger is a slave to Bellatrix Lestrange. Will she be able to overcome the insane situation and her own rising madness?

warnings: moments of nudity, hints of character deaths or worse

A Question of 'Knowing-it-All' by Hermione Granger

They were circling. Always circling in their silver cages. Sometimes they growled, but other times, the manticore were docile. It wasn't natural. The manticore or mantichoras are an untamable and very dangerous magical creature. They were fascinating. I had never seen one up close. Only in the books in the library, however, it wasn't much of an honor to see one considering where we were.

I leaned back in my own silver cage, and watched the four of them roaming about not too far away from me. Of course a cage wouldn't guarantee my safety. They have been known to shoot poisonous spikes from their tails, but she had them so well trained that the only threatening thing they did was growl. If I wasn't in the position I was in, I would gladly write a report about them.

Report.

The time for doing reports was over. There were no more books for me to read upon. No more reason to earn a perfect score on my exam. Ron had always thought I knew too much. I hoped the thought would comfort me, but all it did was dampen my eyes. I didn't know everything. If I had, I would have seen this coming. But…we all had so much faith in Harry…and now he's…he's….

I shut my eyes and turned away from the manticore, trying hard to imagine myself back in the castle walls. I tried to imagine myself not wearing a silver collar with a snake imprint and small bell attached like a tag. Regardless, I fingered the bell and listened to the small chime it made. I wrapped my arms around myself and I tried to imagine that I was wearing my Hogwarts robes instead of nothing. I was as bare as the manticore. As bare and exposed as an animal. That was my role now in this new world. To be treated like an animal for being a mudblood.

There was the clicks of excited footsteps coming my way. It was her. I braced myself and scooted to a corner of the cage. The manticore were getting restless. They too could sense her coming.

In a matter of minutes, the door violently swung open and Bellatrix Lestrange stood before us. She looked around the room, as if checking to make sure nothing was out of order. Then she grinned. There was that mad glint in her eyes that I was so used to by now. I made to cover up myself even more. She laughed and wandered over to my cage.

"Is the little mudblood ready to clean for auntie Bella?" she asked in a sickening, babyish voice. I didn't answer. I never did. She used her wand to unlock my cage, then she reached in and pulled me out by the arm.

My cheeks no longer flushed when I stood before her, exposed. I still felt shame, but very little of it.

"Let's go," she crowned dangerously. She yanked me around and gave me a sharp swat on my bottom. She looked back at her beloved monsters. "Mommy will be back very soon."

I walked beside her down the dark hallway. The bell chimed slightly as I moved. It was a kind of pretty sound. One that somehow reminded me of the Gryffindor common room.

I ignored the many portraits of her on the walls doing disgusting things. I made a left turn at one of the rooms.

I knew where to go.

It was an old supply room filled with muggle cleaning supplies. They were my supplies now. No longer would I have quills and books. I would have a soap pan and a non-magical broom. Hanging near the door was the rags that I'd wear. An outfit not too unlike a house elf's. At least I would be clothed awhile, and in that while, I would imagine them to be Hogwart's robes. Lestrange was clicking her foot impatiently.

"Hurry up….I haven't got all day." When I'd finished dressing, I stepped up to her. There was a sharp pain across my cheek after her hand suddenly lashed out. "Aren't you forgetting….something?"

I had. I had forgotten one of the things that was expected of me. I slowly got to my knees and bowed down. Though it was Voldemort everyone was entitled to bow to, Lestrange saw herself just as worthy enough to receive the same treatment. In her delusioned mind, she was queen.

"That's better. You'll be cleaning the floors today on the top floor. No mops. Just rags. Go." She snapped and pointed to the area where a soap filled pail and rags stood.

I wandered over to it. The little bell chimed, and it was like I was reaching for my quill and book to get started on a paper that was due tomorrow.

This was what was expected of me now.

Cleaning the floor on hands and knees with nothing but a rag.

I started with the hall just outside the room. As I cleaned, I thought of Harry and Ron. I could see them off to the side, engaged in talk instead of working. I frowned at them. Didn't they know what work must be done? Didn't they care that they'd get into trouble? I called out to them.

"Harry! Ron!"

They turned around. Then all of a sudden, Ron started to vanish. My eyes went teary and my voice caught in my throat. I whispered his name. I looked at Harry. He had that confident smile on his face. Then his face started to become charred like ash. I screamed his name as the green fires consumed him.

He and Ron weren't there anymore. My voice echoed back at me in the dark manor of Lestrange. I felt my heart racing and I quickly looked around for any sign of her. There was none. She either hadn't heard me or she was choosing to ignore me. I returned to cleaning the floor with a simple rag.

The bell chimed and eased my mind, a little.

I was marching up the stairs with the pail and rag. Walking up the stairs of the home that had once belonged to Sirius, and was once headquarters for the Order. I stopped and gazed up at the heads of house elves lining the side like trophies. I wondered how it would look when my head was up there. Would I be as recognizable as the elves?

A fierce snarling and growling came my way. I turned and saw the werewolf, once Remus Lupin, pulling like a mad dog from a chain held by Lestrange. She kept him like that now. Trapped in his werewolf form, and he was as mad as one. No longer was he the sensible professor of the Dark Arts. He didn't understand anything except that it was not okay to bite her. She stopped when she neared the stairs where I was.

"When you are done cleaning upstairs, and dusting the rooms, prepare lunch," she ordered.

I gave a small bow. My eyes wandered to the wolf. He looked at me in rage. He didn't see me. All he saw was food.
"Let's go!" Lestrange ordered. She pulled out her whip and gave him another lash across the back. That was another thing I tried to ignore. The cuts and bruises on his furry body. The werewolf yowled and led the way, back to his cage that was away from mine. I watched for a second, then I headed up the stairs.

Elves' heads weren't the only mounts on the wall. Blood traitors were there too. Most of the family of them. Most of the family of red heads. Molly was there, and Arthur, as were the twins. Poor Ginny had joined them as well. Their eyes were closed as if they were enjoying a peaceful rest.

And right next to her…Ron.

He didn't have a ridiculous grin on his face. He looked as calm as the rest of his family, despite the fact that he had no body. My eyes teared up when I looked at him. Every time I passed his three dimensional portrait, I had a small desire to join him.

"Oh Ron," I whispered. "It's so awful here. You're lucky to be with your family." I had no idea where mine were. I reached for his cheeks then gave him a passionate kiss on the lips. I took my duster and lightly dusted the dust from his hair. Even if he was just a head, it was no excuse for him to be filthy. His mother never liked it. I remembered the time his mother complained of the dirt behind his nose.

"That's better now," I praised. I smiled and continued up to the rooms.

"Mind your own business Hermione!" he cried out to me.

"You are my business," I said over my shoulder.

I swept and dusted the rooms Lestrange never visited. The bell around my neck would chime as I worked. I used to try and pull the collar away, but it wasn't something I could undo. Besides that, tampering with the collar earned me many crucios, so it remained. I had tried to get rid of the bell too, but now, I can't imagine being without it. It's a comfort to hear the chimes. I welcomed the bell. Sometimes its long rings reminded me of the Hogwarts' choir. I thought about them singing as I dusted the forgotten items that once belonged to Sirius. I noticed the voices grew louder when I dusted a familiar orange cat that had been stuffed. I think his name was Crookshanks, and that he was mine once before Lestrange murdered it. Poor thing.

I was back to cleaning the floor on hands and knees with a rag. After I had served my mistress lunch, I went back to cleaning the floor. I was on the floor like an animal. Crawling around on all fours, and still the bell chimed. It was all so tedious now. It was no wonder Ron always told me I worked too hard. I turned to my right and saw him shaking his head at me.

"Just because you're too lazy to do it," I snapped at him. "Why don't you get down here and help me?"

"How am I suppose to do that?" he asked in his smart tone. "I don't have a wand, let alone body."

"Good point," I sighed.

"And it's not even for a grade," Ron continued.

He was right. I wasn't getting extra points for being so clean, but I was getting satisfaction. I was a hard worker. He had to accept that. I was expected to do this. Ron didn't understand. This was my hard work now, and I did it every single day.

There were steps coming up behind me so I stopped. There were times where Lestrange showed her true insanity, and this was one of them. If only she could be as controlled as she was whenever she gave me an order.

She was laughing like a mad woman. Cantering about behind me, expressing herself as a lunatic from Azkaban. She reached down and lifted up my raggedy blouse. Then she pushed me down, flat on the floor. What was she going to do this time? I felt it as her fingers walked up my back. I felt her give me a slight scratch on my backside. She was scratching it, like I was some kind of cat suffering from an itch in that area. I could barely deny that it didn't feel good. A shiver of pleasure actually ran through me.

"How's my little pet…hm?" she asked. "How about now!"

There was a horrible burning sensation on my exposed cheek. I fought and screamed, but she held me down tight. It lasted less than ten seconds. After that, the burning wasn't so intense. She laughed then stood and walked away. When I felt her presence leave completely, I looked down. There was a brand mark there. I had been branded with her initials on my rump. I ran a finger over it.

"Yeh belong to her now Her'mione."

I looked around and saw Hagrid standing before me.

"What do you mean now?" I asked. "This is what's expected of me now isn't it? Since Voldemort took over."

Then to my surprise, he reached down and patted me on the head, the way he would pat Fang.

"That's a good girl," he commented. I watched Hagrid turn and disappear. As far as I could remember, there wasn't a Hagrid anymore. He had been food for one of the death eater's monstrous pets. But that was just a rumor.

I continued crawling along the floors as I cleaned with a now filthy rag. The bell chimed. It chimed more when I was on all fours. I liked listening to it chime. It kept my mind off work.

Dinner time was not easy for me. I wasn't allowed to have it at the table like a human being, but on the floor in a cat dish. I was given no utensils. My utensils were my hands. Lestrange fed me no better than her manticores. Most of the time it was chopped fish or meat, but I ate it none-the-less. I was done eating regular square meals. According to her, I didn't need them. Part of me suspected she may have poisoned my meals with something to dull my mind, but I reasoned if that were the case, I'd be dead by now. I ate without complaint and she smiled down at me.

I may not have needed square meals, but I was in need of a toilet from time to time. Lestrange saw no reason to indulge me with a toilet. I received a litter box in a corner instead. I'd seen cats use them enough times to know how to use them, so squatting down in one wasn't so hard. It was only hard when Lestrange delighted in watching me go. I would ring my little bell for comfort.

When the day came at an end, the raggedy blouse came off, and I was as bare as the day I was born. I led the way back to my cage with Lestrange laughing madly. She locked the door behind me and I was alone. I had nothing but the manticore to keep me company. I pulled my knees up to my chin and thought of Harry. He had not been strong enough to end it. He had not been good enough.

I had not been good enough. I had not been clever enough to find a way out. Not for myself or anybody.

The bell chimed, taunting me.

I threw my hands up to my ears and covered them. I could still hear the ringing. Still feel the coolness of the cage. I didn't want to believe I was here.

Slowly I looked up to the highest point of the room. There was a large portrait of Lord Voldemort blinking at me from the wall. He was always watching me. It wasn't a typical wizarding portrait. It was almost as ordinary as a muggle painting. It was only there to remind me that there was a new world out there. One where Dumbledore and Harry were dead, and Voldemort was as high as a monarch.

I could see the pool of blood moving in the corner of the room.

Harry was being carried in Hagrid's arms. There was a bloody gash across his head, but that hadn't been the cause of his death.

The blood was sliding across the room's floor.

I was turning, shouting out curses in the battlefield. I screamed out to Ron. I watched him turn to me, and I watched in horror as a curse struck him from behind.

The blood was slinking across the floor like a snake. It was climbing up through the bars of my cage.

I saw Bellatrix Lestrange coming toward me, grinning and laughing like mad. I tried to review every curse I learned. I had no wand for defense. I saw her wand come down.

The blood was rising like a cobra. It was close. It was forming into a cobra with its fangs extended.

I saw a crumbling Hogwarts. Students, many of them were in chains. I was in chains next to a hysterical Lestrange. The enemy was cheering in victory.

The bell was chiming louder than ever. The rings seeping deep into my brain.

The blood cobra struck.

I screamed.

The screams echoed off the walls. The mantichoras sounded their disapproval. Voldemort's glittering eyes showed satisfaction. His grin widened.

I don't know how long the scream lasted. The screams that begged for it to stop. For the bell to stop ringing, for the snake to stop biting, for the madness to end.

All I knew was that my throat hurt afterwards, and Bellatrix never came in to quiet me. All the books in the world weren't enough to save me. I was completely on my own. I was probably the last sensible one left. Stuck in this house, for a year and a half, doing the same thing everyday. I had not been clever enough to find a way out.

Maybe I wasn't as smart as I thought I was.

Maybe I was always what I am now.

Maybe, I'm like the manticore.

I looked over at them. They weren't giving me much mind now.

I looked up at the portrait of Voldemort. I could see him in Dumbledore's robes. I was looking at him, really looking at him like never before. All of the wizarding world was looking up to him now. I was looking down. I would always look down. For I was a…mudblood afterall. I was in the place of mudbloods. The reminder of what I was is still etched on my arm.

The bell around my collar chimed again, and I screamed again. I screamed like I was receiving something worse than the cruciatus curse. I twisted and turned. I grabbed my head. The chime of the bell was slipping deeper and deeper into my brain, just as the fangs of the blood cobra was slipping deeper and deeper into my skin. Where had it come from?

I screamed for it to leave.

I screamed for the suffering to end.

I screamed in demand for the right answer.

Then there was silence.

All I heard was the bell around my neck.

The noise was more beautiful than ever. Suddenly, it didn't seem so important that I knew more. I had stopped long ago looking for answers.

This was the answer.

I looked over at the manticore. I was no better then they were when I looked down at myself. I hadn't had a bath in weeks. My hair was untamable and matty. My skin almost unrecognizable. I had even become the source of food for a few ticks and fleas that had left the beasts and burrowed into my body. I felt a thick cluster of them behind my ears and under my arms. What was the use of pulling them away. There would only be more of what I was receiving.

And that was my last logical thought.

The next morning was the same thing. Bellatrix Lestrange entered.

In a matter of minutes, the door violently swung open and Bellatrix Lestrange stood before us. She looked around the room, as if checking to make sure nothing was out of order. Then she grinned. There was that mad glint in her eyes that I was so used to by now.

I didn't bother to cover myself up as she bounded up to me. I simply sat there, gazing at nothing. That made sense.

"Is the little mudblood ready to clean for auntie Bella?" she asked in a sickening, babyish voice.

I was still, but I could hear the bell chiming sharply in my ear. It hadn't stopped since it started the day before.

I didn't turn to her.

I smiled. And then I laughed. I threw my head back and laughed.

Bellatrix's own maddened gaze didn't falter. She simply stared at me, excited.
I was excited too.

I hopped onto all fours and wandered up to her. She opened the cage door and extended a hand. That's when I knew.

I wasn't a girl after all.

I was wrong. I was her pet. I glanced over at the manticore. I was a special kind of manticore. I was a more beautiful kind. I leaned my head into her palm and caressed it. I gave her fingers a slight lick with my tongue. She reached with her other hand and patted the top of my head.

"My little mudblood has learned at last," she crooned. "Hasn't she? Filthy little creature. Thought you were just as good as a witch. Now you know what you truly are, don't you."

I had to agree. Whatever I was, it was long gone. It died a long time ago, along with two other nameless boys.

"Come along my pet. I shall award you …breakfast."

She laughed and I laughed. I hopped out of the cage and cantered along beside her on all fours.

There was no raggedy blouse for me to wear. I wasn't a house elf, though I could learn to clean.

The bell on my collar chimed and I smiled at the thought of snakes and blood.

It's so easy to let go. To not think.

To be as dumb as an animal.

If there was a question left to be answered, it was 'what is a mudblood?'

End. Yes. A tragic story that ends with Hermione losing her mind. Before the challenge, I did intend to write such a story, but with a darker situation that related more to the video game. It had her impregnated with Voldy's child which was causing her to go mad. In this case you could say the bell did it, or the overall situation, or all the delusions she was experiencing. I was also highly inspired by the short story The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. If you haven't read it, you should. That story also deals with a woman slowly driven to madness, mainly due to her confinement in a yellow wallpapered room.

Anyways, it was fun to take a brilliant character like Hermione and make her mad. I don't write much tragic stuff, but lately it has been alluring.

I admit, it was a challenge for me to slowly drive her to insanity little by little, especially for a fic that has to be a oneshot. Maybe I'll do it again in another fashion. Til then….

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