ALL WAS NOT WELL. If you told Hermione Granger, the bright eyed and brightest witch of her age, what her life would look like twenty years later… She would have personally committed whoever dared to utter it to St. Mungos herself. There had been suspicions over the years, minuscule little thoughts that didn’t make sense, that would come to the forefront of her mind, taunting her to dig deeper. Thoughts she’d deemed herself insane for even considering. Thoughts that would have aided her in standing her ground when Harry had left them to join Voldemort. 

              It was him that killed Albus Dumbledore, it was him that lead them astray, him that strung them along under the guise of ‘saving the world’, but all they’d truly helped Harry James Potter with in that time was making him stronger. It was worth noting that there had been close calls over the years. Not with Harry himself, but with the Death Eaters. Close calls where they’d been fighting the GOOD fight and should have died, but it seemed as if they had some sort of immunity, though Hermione had considered it a fluke. She didn’t trust it. 

              The battle of Hogwarts had left no more than a handful of order members. A few straggling members of Dumbledore’s army. The Weasleys hadn’t just lose Fred, but Ginny as well. Hermione suspected she’d taken after Harry herself in search of answers and… She hadn’t survived. Ron and Hermione had found solace in one another though in hiding, there was only so much they could take. Each day was a battle in THE DARK LORD’S WOLRD, and eventually, they were fighting themselves. 

              Neither side was wrong, though they had both been misguided. They’d both been misunderstood. Communication falling short because hadn’t actions always spoken louder than words? And of course, because it was RON AND HERMIONE, their wires got crossed. Things were interpreted differently and it seemed only fitting that in a world where Harry had joined the very man who had ruined his life, that they’d suffer at the hands of their own fate. They couldn’t save the wizarding world and they certainly couldn’t save themselves, nor whatever shambles remained of their relationship.  

             Voldemort’s world was of blood purity and power and though they had been in hiding, the moment Hermione walked away from Ron, she walked away from the wizarding world as well. The muggle one wasn’t much better. Voldemort bled through and his reign of torturing muggles had started a war of it’s own. Viktor had assisted her in finding a small safe house in a quaint little Bulgarian town and it went without saying that she’d brought her parents with her. THE MAGICAL WORLD was left behind, especially now that the Ministry was tracking every single usage of magic and she dared not give herself away. 

               It was ONE MONTH after the final fight with Ron. The one where they’d finally let it all out. Irreversible words spilling out from either sides sealing their fates. They’d stupidly thought at the time they had nothing left to lose, but oh if only they’d known. Ron was vacant, and Hermione had suspected he hadn’t loved her for years. It was more of a COMFORTABLE FAMILIARITY than it was anything else. In a moment of weakness, they’d end up tangled up in one another trying to act as if they still truly loved each other as wholes. Resentment had bubbled up because there was always a reason to be anywhere but with her. But she had no grounds to argue, not when FAMILY ALWAYS CAME FIRST. 

               Evidently, she no longer made the cut. 

       And to Ron. Well. Hermione had driven him away years ago. 

                So when she’d found out she was pregnant? With his child? Well, he wasn’t fit to parent anyone. He couldn’t even take care of himself in her eyes, and surely she couldn’t take care of two children. Not in this world, not now. Hell, even bringing someone into this world was terrifying but… she didn’t have the heart to end it. Eight months later, Madeline was born. Bright red hair, freckles, and the sweetest girl to ever exist. She was like Hermione just as much as she was like him. Her father. The one she’d lost in the war. The ongoing one that was seemingly won by Voldemort, Harry and the rest of the Death Eaters. 

              Point was, Hermione really never talked about him. And if she had, it was vague. A small memory from THE GOLDEN YEARS, void of all mentions of magic and madness. Madeline was home schooled, always kept tight to Hermione and her parents. They lived a comfortable life, and it should have been enough. It wasn’t ideal of course, but it was the best she could do at a time like this. When the world was like this. 

               There were so many enchantments set in place, thanks to Viktor and herself. She’d learned a lot over the years and refused to stop, still one day hoping to beat them. To let the worlds rest and go back to the way they were. To heal and finally find peace. 

              Keeping Madeline happy was her main concern. Away from strong emotions that might trigger the slightest bit of magic. But at some point, Hermione had failed. Another unanswered question about her father. Another conversation aching to leave their STUPID, SMALL VILLAGE WHERE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING HAPPENED. She was just as well read as Hermione, though the books had taken heavy censorship and always were rooted in the Muggle world. But of course she wanted to see more, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to show her. Keeping everything under lock and key was just as isolating as one could imagine and when it had at one time been such an incredible world to be apart of? She felt horrendous. The frustration bubbled down to nothing more than an exploding vase, one she’d filled with sunflowers this morning in attempts to brighten things up. Not even seven seconds later a loud crack filled the room and…

            Hermione hadn’t had her wand. It sat in the locked drawer of her bedside table because the fear was always them coming in the night. And given the enchantments they’d had set up about NOT being able to apparate? Well, there was no way, but the six Death Eaters standing in the living room and dining room surrounding the pair said otherwise. Hermione had screamed for Maddie to run but… So much had happened in such a short time. Hermione couldn’t process it, and though capable of wandless magic, they’d had the element of surprise. She’d taken two down but four remained and… 

             And she was showing up in Romania, still sobbing with her wand feeling foreign in her hand, parents staying with Viktor while…. While she tried to fix this. Tried to get her back. As it was, half-bloods didn’t have the best reputation with Voldemort’s regim and given her parents, she was in trouble. Why they’d even taken her, Hermione hadn’t known. Perhaps to torture her? Still remained to be seen why they hadn’t ended her then and there but… Harry. 

         Hermione was still bloody and pale when Ron opened the door, doused in sleep and confusion. 

                                           “What the hell is this?”

            “Help me, please.” After all these years, she was finally at his mercy. Finally standing there telling him the truth she’d kept hidden for sixteen, almost seventeen years. “They’ve got her. THE DEATH EATERS  — they’ve got our daughter.” She had no right to impose upon Ron’s NEW LIFE. The one where he stood alongside Charlie and Daenerys with all the dragons. The one where he’d made the best of everything and pulled himself back together. “I’m sorry.” For turning up, for not telling him? “You can hate me all you want, just… Please, Please help me.” She couldn’t do this alone. 

@horcrvxed cont. from here. 

  “For you to keep your mouth shut, Malfoy.”

                      ‘You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.’

        Harry honestly hadn’t thought he would ever come to see Draco’s side of things, nor eye to eye. It was one thing to let on he had suspicions about the blond. To troll on and on until he was blue in the face how he’d thought Malfoy to be a Death Eater, but another thing entirely to be covering your own ruddy arse by deflecting. Snape often was his scapegoat and he really hadn’t relayed any false information regarding the greasy git.

       But to see Malfoy finally dragged into the game? To get the mark? To suddenly have to act like he was surprised? Well, he’d failed on that front, let’s be honest. Lucius was useless in his eyes and though he respected in front of the Dark Lord, it ended there.

      “Not to blather on to Pansy, or Blaise, or your goonies. But to keep it shut..” He’d had the mark since the end of his fourth year, and the last thing he needed was for everything to seep out now. “He’s liable to kill you if you don’t, and we both know you’re not that stupid.” But still … Curiosity got the best of him, as it always did. “Did you see this coming?”

                               _______________

          The blonde boy pursed his lips and formed a thin line. Draco inhaled deeply and narrowed his eyes. ‘ shove it, ’ he thought feeling an annoyed sense twinge over his nose. “Potter --” he started, but was cut off. He couldn’t imagine not acting. The boy had been acting his entire school career... it was an odd thing, to think that one of their worlds most favorite golden boys, seemingly under the thumb of Professor Dumbledore, was now under the thumb of his father’s his own master. It was time to take responsibility for his own actions. Though he deeply regretted thinking of that. It made him nervous to think of what would happen when the time finally came to owning up to what he had done. If they did win, what ever they were fighting for... sometimes he didn’t know.

        He brought his hand up to his chin stroking it, in a pondering way as if he were playing a game of Wizards Chess with Potter. They might as well be, it would be Draco’s move next. He looked over the table as though he were looking over the chess table. “What kind of person do you think I am? That my tongue might be so loose...” It might have been true once that he had become the informant to Rita Skeeter, but he was childish then, and most if not all of those stories were false. Now he thought himself grown, it would be beneath him to share a private conversation... even if he did think Potter was a bit of a prat. “Oh I’m fully aware of what’s at steak. Don’t you be stupid.”

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ooo okay this is going off the movies because i haven't read it. its been a while so hopefully i remember names ok 

push off a cliff: that bitch ass headmaster (?) they had??? she was like kinda oldish. and wore pink or something. sorry i don't even remember what movie she was in/her name but she was a BIIIITCH

frick frack:  hrmmm idk i really don't know many of the characters now that i think about it lol. harry i guess???

marry: hagrid or sth

set on fire: voldemort (sp??) i guess idk 

wrap a blanket around: ron??

be roommates with: HERMIONE WHO WOULDN'T