Yes, Headmaster

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and encouraged me to update. Sorry it took so long, I had half this chapter done, and then my flash drive decided to commit suicide. It’s terribly exciting to get positive reviews from authors you look up to!

So, to clarify for anyone wondering, my chapters aren’t going to be very consistent on length. Some will be longer, some shorter, but never more than a couple pages, because I abhor writing long chapters, I’ve no skill for it at all.

If anyone has any factual questions or comments, I've changed Hermione's roomate to Lavender, for my own sake because I know very little about Parvati. Bear with me please! >.<

Enjoy.

LadyVoldemort87: You are my first reviewer ever, and I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I hope I don't disappoint!
Nerys: .... I feel like I've been reviewed by a celebrity, because, honestly, I adore your stories! Your question will be answered next chapter, and I'm sorry we haven't gotten to the detention yet! (we're gonna do a little looky-see into the past)
Heidi191976: Thanks, I'm going to try and update quickly
Lady Miya: I have a feeling there's going to be smut in this fics future, but I can't promise much, it'll be my first attempt!
loki: I hope you enjoy!
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Hermione never failed to look for her ginger furred familiar when she pushed open the door to her room.

And disappointment never failed to well inside her chest when no half-kneazle brushed against her legs for attention, searching for a few pats and maybe a saucer of cream.

It had been an unimaginably crushing blow when her last confidant had been devoured by the Dark Lord’s own familiar. That damned snake had been allowed to slither through the halls for three months before it attacked a professor, and now the beast could roam the halls only at night.

After her familiar’s death, Hermione had taken great care in attempting to hex and curse the snake. She had managed to give it a few nasty cuts, and had even turned it bright pink before anyone was accused. However, when two first years were severely punished for the acts, she had immediately quite attempting to avenge her loving pet. If Hermione’s actions ended up causing others harm, especially the younger years, she would never be able to live with herself.

Hermione had no doubt that Voldemort knew that weakness in her. And however many times she reviewed the situation and came to the conclusion that no one could have logically or magically witnessed the acts, she never forgot that way he watched her the entire time the two boys shrieked before the entire school. He’d had some of the professors, Professors Malfoy, LeStrange, and Macnair throw random hexes at the boys until they fell unconscious.

That had been in February, and their cries always seemed to stand out in her nightmares, becoming almost as haunting as the cries that had left her sleep deprived since November.

But now it was mid April, and only two months were left of what the remaining portraits called the first year of the end of Hogwarts. All the portraits that were not somehow enchanted to never leave the walls had been taken down before the school year began, just as most of the ghosts were either banished or chained by curses to one corridor or room.

Hermione Granger now lived in a world where even the dead were under His control.

As Hermione tossed her bag to the foot of her bed and flopped unceremoniously onto her comforter, her mind began to wander. The feeling of dread that had pooled in her stomach slowly unknotted as she drifted to sleep on her bed, perhaps for the last time.

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November 12, 1997

“Harry Potter... if you would be so kind,” Voldemort hissed softly, his lips turning upward just slightly in a grimace of a smile.

Hermione instantly grabbed his hand and Ron began to stand, but both were given firm looks from the-boy-who-never-smiled-anymore. He squeezed Hermione’s hand and pulled away, putting the hand on Ron’s shoulder and pushing the ginger haired teen down as he stood.

“Don’t stop.” he said softly, leaving no question in his tone.

“Harry, please,” Hermione whispered.

“Especially you, Hermione. Don’t. Ever. Stop.”

And then Harry turned away from his friends for the last time and walked towards Voldemort, who stood before the teachers table.

The seventh years watched from their table in the middle of the hall. Everyone had been confused when they’d arrived in September and five student tables were set in the great hall. Looking in the main doors, The seventh year table was in the middle, and to its left were Slytherin and Gryffindor, to its right Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. All seventh years would be grouped together at meals, but sorting would take place much the same. It was easier for Voldemort to see who might grow up to be a threat that way.

And so the entire school watched, most of the professors in anticipation, but all students grim. Even Draco Malfoy seemed grim that day. It was as if the last two months had just been building up to this point.

And when Voldemort smiled almost serenely at the teenage would-be hero, every muscle in the Great Hall tensed. And with a soft murmured, the boy-who-lived lived no more.

The hall erupted then, and every seventh year leapt up. It was a short lived battle, and half the seventh years were dead in the aisles between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in a matter of minutes. Even Slytherin’s had been murdered in cold blood by the new staff.

The dead were disposed of carelessly, but a select band of students were all bound and on their knees in the space between the head table and the student tables. Ron, Neville, Parvati, Dean, Hermione, a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that Hermione knew by sight, not name, and even three Slytherins who she never actually recalled seeing in her six previous years.

As the rest of the students were brought to order she felt such hate welling up within her that she knew, given the chance, that she would gladly and eagerly kill. And then, one by one, Voldemort had two of the Professors bring up the students that they had had to bind to stop.

First he brought forward the Hufflepuffs, and deemed two of them unthreatening enough to be released for further punishment. The last one, however, he used occlumency on and then smiled.

“A Hufflepuff with a mind as cunning as a Slytherin’s, unfortunate you are so very weak. Avada Kedavra.”

Hermione bit her lip against a cry of fury and loss, as the boy fell in a heap and was levitated away.

Then the Ravenclaws, all five of them kept alive. Next, the Slytherin’s came before him, and only one was killed.

As his red gaze turned on the Gryffindors a thick silence hung over them.

And then Parvati was pulled forward, though Ginny tried to hold on to her with bound hands. Hermione knew that Parvati could be a great fighter, but faced with the dark lord the girl burst into tears, and had to bite her lip to keep it from quivering.

Voldemort smirked lightly. “A Gryffindor? This girl? Surely you must be joking. I have no use for some fool girl will illusions of a battle full of grandeur, who cannot even meet my gaze.”

And Parvati only hiccupped slightly before a green flash made her go limp.

Dean was next, and he glared right up at Voldemort, though he had to clench his hands against a slight tremble.

“That’s more like, it, boy. Show everyone how uselessly brave and reckless Gryffindors are. It’s too bad you’re a fool, such bravery becomes idiocy in the wrong hands.”

Then there were only three Gryffindors left.

When Macnair reached for Ron the red-head appeared ready to attack, and Hermione silently prayed he could keep his cool... Merlin knew she couldn’t keep calm if he began to fight again. However, LeStrange stopped him and reached instead for Neville. “Lets see how this one does. Remember how his parents screamed that night? The night dear Bella let us join her for the fun?”

At that Neville's eyes hardened and he was tugged forward nd set on his knees before the dark lord.

Neville gazed up at the man with such a fury, that Hermione scarce could believe it was the same boy who’d been picked on all his school years. The sweet, unfortunate boy who always lost his toad, or got into a mess.

Now a teenage boy, almost a man, glared at the dark lord and only grimaced when Voldemort dug through his memories. When Voldemort blinked a speculative gaze was placed on Neville.

“This is surely not the chubby little brat who defied dear Bella at the Ministry in his fifth year. Such strong hate, and the desire to use that hate. Oh, you would do most anything to get your hands on Bella, wouldn’t you, dear boy? What would you say if I offered her to you now? Just what would you do?”

There was a drawn out silence, taught as a bowstring, but pulsing with an anxious undercurrent.

“I would never sink to your level,” Neville finally said through a half clenched jaw. “Or hers.”

Voldemort smirked. “We’ll see, boy. It would truly be a waste to kill you, Macnair, send him with the others to... reinforce their understanding of the new school rules. And then,” his red gaze slipped to the remaining bound students, “we’ll see just how their leaders death affected this... I suppose you’re not quite a trio now, are you?”

He grinned, and the grin was so maliciously pleased that it sent a shudder down Hermione’s spine.

“We’ll start with the boy.”


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Well? It took forever, but it was longer than the first....
Now, unfortunately, I feel a longer than three or four chapter story coming on.
I hope I’ve lived up to what everyone thought this chapter would be....
I just opened too many possibilities....
Of course, reviews keep me going ;)