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Summary: Hermione silently tiptoed to the middle of the stairs and grabbed hold of the rail. She could hear voices in the kitchen. As far as she knew, everyone should still have been asleep. There weren't any lights on and the people were talking in whispers. Hermione slowly took a few more steps and listened very carefully.
Author's notes: I would like to thank all of you for your reviews! They're really great!
******
Hermione Granger Weasley nearly jumped as a loud crash woke her from her slumber. She lay down for a moment and tried to collect herself before she got up to see what the crash had been and where it had come from. Hermione slowly tiptoed across the tiny room that had once been Fred and George's and now was Fred and hers. She grabbed her robe off of the old green chair in the corner and put it on as quietly as she could.
As Hermione walked around the bed to the door she took a look back at her sleeping husband. She smiled as he said something that sounded like 'no more tuna, please'. She had never expected to fall in love with Fred Weasley. Their marriage wasn't supposed to be real.
At the beginning of the Cold Age the Ministry of Magic put out a kind of draft for young wizards to join the army. The only exception was that, if a man was married, he did not have to join. When George got his summoning letter it hit the family really hard. Their only income had been Fred and George's joke shop and they knew that Fred's letter would come next. So, Fred did the unimaginable and proposed to Hermione. Of course, Hermione accepted. They had to stay married for at least a year--then they would get the marriage annulled. But, somewhere along the way, Hermione and Fred fell in love. Neither of them could place exactly when, where, or even how it had happened—but it did.
Hermione silently tiptoed to the middle of the stairs and grabbed hold of the rail. She could hear voices in the kitchen. As far as she knew, everyone should still have been asleep. There weren't any lights on and the people were talking in whispers. Hermione slowly took a few more steps and listened very carefully.
"I believe that they're all upstairs," someone whispered. "We can go and ambush them, or we can kill them quietly in their sleep."
Hermione's heart stopped. The words 'kill them' echoed in her head.
"Don't you think that we shouldn't be so brutal?" Another voice whispered. "I say we do it while they sleep."
"No! These people are evil. They use witchcraft! They deserve to die horrible deaths. I say we kill them slowly and send their evil souls to the fires of hell!" A third voice whispered.
Hermione felt panic sweep through her entire body. She knew that she had to go back upstairs and warn everyone but she couldn't will her body to move.
"We'll do it in their sleep!" ordered the first voice. "We are not savages. Let's do it before the morning comes. Follow me."
Hermione gasped as three men in black clothing with red X's on the pocket of their jackets. The men looked shocked to see Hermione standing in the middle of the stairs. A tall man with light blond hair was the first to speak.
"Hello there," he said as he slowly stepped toward Hermione. "Don't be afraid. We aren't going to hurt you. I need you to relax—there's a dear. Now, tell me what you heard of that conversation that we just had."
Hermione hesitated then decided to speak. If these were going to be her last seconds of life then she wanted to let these Hunters know what she thought of them.
"I heard enough to know that you aren't welcome here," she answered calmly. "You have no right to be in our home debating whether or not you're going to make us suffer. And you are very wrong about one thing."
"And what might that be?" the blond man asked.
"You are savages."
Rage and fear filled them blond man's eyes and he bounded up the stairs towards Hermione. Hermione held her breath as the man grabbed her arm ad tight as he could. Hermione cringed in pain as his finger nails dug into her flesh.
"You have no right to talk to us like that, girl. We have more power than you know." The blond man looked down at the other two and made some kind of a motion. The other men slowly walked back into the kitchen and disappeared from sight. The blonde man then tightened his grip and pushed Hermione up against the wall. "What is this?" He asked as he put his hand on her stomach.
"Don't hurt my baby!" Hermione whispered icily.
The man laughed wickedly. "There need not be anymore evil in the world. Here you are, carrying a child of Satan. You should be ashamed."
"My child is not evil." Hermione whispered as tears ran down her face.
The blond man said nothing else as he ran his hand up and down Hermione's stomach. Then, with one last wicked laugh, the man threw Hermione down the stairs.
* * *
Draco couldn't sleep that night. He had tossed and turned for hours until he finally gave up and walked out onto his balcony. The balcony over-looked a very large garden. The garden hadn't been tended to ever since the dawn of the Cold Age and the weeds were beginning to grow over the stone path. Draco sighed and ran his hand through his hair, which had been growing extremely long. His thoughts were mainly on earlier that day when he and his father attended a Death Eaters meeting.
Ever since Draco had had a fit a few days before his father had been explaining what was going on with the Muggles. Apparently Lord Voldemort had something to do with it. No one was exactly sure but, from what Draco understood, Voldemort had given the Muggles a form of magic. They couldn't use it against wizards, but it stopped the wizards from using magic in defense. The Muggles were called the Hunters because they were ruthless men and women who were out to kill the 'filth' of the world. In Draco's opinion these Hunters were the filth.
The Hunters weren't allowed to attack Voldemort's followers. That's why Draco and his family were still alive. But something inside of Draco knew that there was something wrong with the picture. If Voldemort was controlling the muggles, then why wouldn't he show himself? And where on earth was Harry Potter? Harry had disappeared after the attack on Hogwarts.
Draco had heard many rumors about Harry. Some said that he was killed in combat and the Death Eaters disposed of his body. Others said that he was still alive, hiding somewhere in the mountains.
Draco's thoughts were disrupted when his father suddenly walked into his room.
"Draco," he said. "What on earth are you doing? We have another meeting in ten minutes and you aren't even dressed."
"I was just thinking," Draco said as he walked back into his bedroom. He hadn't realized how much time had gone by.
Lucius Malfoy shook his head. "Never mind it. You must hurry, the Hunters have made another attack and we're beginning to see a pattern."
"Who did they attack?" Draco asked curiously.
"The Weasley family."
* * *
Ginny Weasley sat up in bed and breathed heavily. She had had an awful dream. There had been three Muggles in her home and they were talking about...murder. Ginny shuddered and rubbed her hands over her face—she'd never be able to sleep now. Too many thoughts were running through her head.
Ginny was about to lie back down when she heard a loud crashing noise coming from the kitchen. Ginny stood up and grabbed her wand. She took a deep breath and slowly walked to her door. She stood waiting for what seemed like an eternity. At one point she thought she heard voices, but she decided that it must be her subconscious playing tricks on her.
Just as Ginny was about to go back to bed she heard a woman screaming, then footsteps leading up the stairs. Ginny reached for her door and locked it as quickly as she could. Someone was there and she would bet everything she owned that it was the Hunters. Ginny felt fear rising in her chest. She could hear men yelling. They were going to every room it seemed. Ginny could hear the cries of her family and she felt tears stinging her eyes. She knew that she couldn't go out to help—her magic was useless against the Hunters. So, Ginny decided to do the only thing that she could think of.
As quickly as she could, Ginny gathered some clothes and a few pictures and threw them in her pack. She then ran to her window and forced it open—just as someone began to pound on her door. Ginny let out a small scream and climbed out of the window and down the side of the house. When her feet were finally planted on the ground she sprinted away into the darkness of the night.
Summary: Hermione silently tiptoed to the middle of the stairs and grabbed hold of the rail. She could hear voices in the kitchen. As far as she knew, everyone should still have been asleep. There weren't any lights on and the people were talking in whispers. Hermione slowly took a few more steps and listened very carefully.
Author's notes: I would like to thank all of you for your reviews! They're really great!
******
Hermione Granger Weasley nearly jumped as a loud crash woke her from her slumber. She lay down for a moment and tried to collect herself before she got up to see what the crash had been and where it had come from. Hermione slowly tiptoed across the tiny room that had once been Fred and George's and now was Fred and hers. She grabbed her robe off of the old green chair in the corner and put it on as quietly as she could.
As Hermione walked around the bed to the door she took a look back at her sleeping husband. She smiled as he said something that sounded like 'no more tuna, please'. She had never expected to fall in love with Fred Weasley. Their marriage wasn't supposed to be real.
At the beginning of the Cold Age the Ministry of Magic put out a kind of draft for young wizards to join the army. The only exception was that, if a man was married, he did not have to join. When George got his summoning letter it hit the family really hard. Their only income had been Fred and George's joke shop and they knew that Fred's letter would come next. So, Fred did the unimaginable and proposed to Hermione. Of course, Hermione accepted. They had to stay married for at least a year--then they would get the marriage annulled. But, somewhere along the way, Hermione and Fred fell in love. Neither of them could place exactly when, where, or even how it had happened—but it did.
Hermione silently tiptoed to the middle of the stairs and grabbed hold of the rail. She could hear voices in the kitchen. As far as she knew, everyone should still have been asleep. There weren't any lights on and the people were talking in whispers. Hermione slowly took a few more steps and listened very carefully.
"I believe that they're all upstairs," someone whispered. "We can go and ambush them, or we can kill them quietly in their sleep."
Hermione's heart stopped. The words 'kill them' echoed in her head.
"Don't you think that we shouldn't be so brutal?" Another voice whispered. "I say we do it while they sleep."
"No! These people are evil. They use witchcraft! They deserve to die horrible deaths. I say we kill them slowly and send their evil souls to the fires of hell!" A third voice whispered.
Hermione felt panic sweep through her entire body. She knew that she had to go back upstairs and warn everyone but she couldn't will her body to move.
"We'll do it in their sleep!" ordered the first voice. "We are not savages. Let's do it before the morning comes. Follow me."
Hermione gasped as three men in black clothing with red X's on the pocket of their jackets. The men looked shocked to see Hermione standing in the middle of the stairs. A tall man with light blond hair was the first to speak.
"Hello there," he said as he slowly stepped toward Hermione. "Don't be afraid. We aren't going to hurt you. I need you to relax—there's a dear. Now, tell me what you heard of that conversation that we just had."
Hermione hesitated then decided to speak. If these were going to be her last seconds of life then she wanted to let these Hunters know what she thought of them.
"I heard enough to know that you aren't welcome here," she answered calmly. "You have no right to be in our home debating whether or not you're going to make us suffer. And you are very wrong about one thing."
"And what might that be?" the blond man asked.
"You are savages."
Rage and fear filled them blond man's eyes and he bounded up the stairs towards Hermione. Hermione held her breath as the man grabbed her arm ad tight as he could. Hermione cringed in pain as his finger nails dug into her flesh.
"You have no right to talk to us like that, girl. We have more power than you know." The blond man looked down at the other two and made some kind of a motion. The other men slowly walked back into the kitchen and disappeared from sight. The blonde man then tightened his grip and pushed Hermione up against the wall. "What is this?" He asked as he put his hand on her stomach.
"Don't hurt my baby!" Hermione whispered icily.
The man laughed wickedly. "There need not be anymore evil in the world. Here you are, carrying a child of Satan. You should be ashamed."
"My child is not evil." Hermione whispered as tears ran down her face.
The blond man said nothing else as he ran his hand up and down Hermione's stomach. Then, with one last wicked laugh, the man threw Hermione down the stairs.
* * *
Draco couldn't sleep that night. He had tossed and turned for hours until he finally gave up and walked out onto his balcony. The balcony over-looked a very large garden. The garden hadn't been tended to ever since the dawn of the Cold Age and the weeds were beginning to grow over the stone path. Draco sighed and ran his hand through his hair, which had been growing extremely long. His thoughts were mainly on earlier that day when he and his father attended a Death Eaters meeting.
Ever since Draco had had a fit a few days before his father had been explaining what was going on with the Muggles. Apparently Lord Voldemort had something to do with it. No one was exactly sure but, from what Draco understood, Voldemort had given the Muggles a form of magic. They couldn't use it against wizards, but it stopped the wizards from using magic in defense. The Muggles were called the Hunters because they were ruthless men and women who were out to kill the 'filth' of the world. In Draco's opinion these Hunters were the filth.
The Hunters weren't allowed to attack Voldemort's followers. That's why Draco and his family were still alive. But something inside of Draco knew that there was something wrong with the picture. If Voldemort was controlling the muggles, then why wouldn't he show himself? And where on earth was Harry Potter? Harry had disappeared after the attack on Hogwarts.
Draco had heard many rumors about Harry. Some said that he was killed in combat and the Death Eaters disposed of his body. Others said that he was still alive, hiding somewhere in the mountains.
Draco's thoughts were disrupted when his father suddenly walked into his room.
"Draco," he said. "What on earth are you doing? We have another meeting in ten minutes and you aren't even dressed."
"I was just thinking," Draco said as he walked back into his bedroom. He hadn't realized how much time had gone by.
Lucius Malfoy shook his head. "Never mind it. You must hurry, the Hunters have made another attack and we're beginning to see a pattern."
"Who did they attack?" Draco asked curiously.
"The Weasley family."
* * *
Ginny Weasley sat up in bed and breathed heavily. She had had an awful dream. There had been three Muggles in her home and they were talking about...murder. Ginny shuddered and rubbed her hands over her face—she'd never be able to sleep now. Too many thoughts were running through her head.
Ginny was about to lie back down when she heard a loud crashing noise coming from the kitchen. Ginny stood up and grabbed her wand. She took a deep breath and slowly walked to her door. She stood waiting for what seemed like an eternity. At one point she thought she heard voices, but she decided that it must be her subconscious playing tricks on her.
Just as Ginny was about to go back to bed she heard a woman screaming, then footsteps leading up the stairs. Ginny reached for her door and locked it as quickly as she could. Someone was there and she would bet everything she owned that it was the Hunters. Ginny felt fear rising in her chest. She could hear men yelling. They were going to every room it seemed. Ginny could hear the cries of her family and she felt tears stinging her eyes. She knew that she couldn't go out to help—her magic was useless against the Hunters. So, Ginny decided to do the only thing that she could think of.
As quickly as she could, Ginny gathered some clothes and a few pictures and threw them in her pack. She then ran to her window and forced it open—just as someone began to pound on her door. Ginny let out a small scream and climbed out of the window and down the side of the house. When her feet were finally planted on the ground she sprinted away into the darkness of the night.
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