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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 37648 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory

What I learned I rejected but I believe again

I will suffer the consequence of this inquisition

If I jump in this fountain, will I be forgiven?

We all had delusions in our head

We all had our minds made up for us

We had to believe in something

So we did.

Alanis Morrisette, Forgiven

Chapter ten

An incomprehensible murmur escapes my mouth. The noise slowly reaches my still groggy ears, but as I turn on the hard, concrete floor I scream and am thoroughly awake in a blink of an eye. I roll back immediately to relieve my broken arm of my own weight. Merlin, that was a bloody painful and crude awakening. I breathe out deeply, before taking a hold of my wand. I need to mend my bones first. So I cast the spell. Fortunately, healing broken bones is an easy task, unless your name is Lockheart, of course. And I lie on the ground with all my limbs intact and accounted for, a few moments later. I watch the plain, white ceiling thinking I really need to get up and moving, but the memory of fainting and crashing back to the floor is vivid and I am still slightly apprehensive as a result.

How long have I been out of it? It's still daylight as I can see through the huge window. So it couldn't have been too long, could it? I really need to move away from this very visible area. Slowly, I rise and turn around on all fours. I crawl toward to hall, knowing that if I turn around the corner, I will be out of the direct line of sight from the street next to my parents' house. I feel rather silly crawling around like a toddler, but I will feel even sillier if I get up on my feet only to pass out again. I make it to the hall and position myself against the wall on the corner. I sit there resting for a while, thinking about everything that happened to me and about what to do next.

Those things that happened in Hogsmeade were some rather strange magical anomalies. I mean, surely, Voldemort can miss once, but thrice? And I missed at point blank range, while he just stood there in deep thought! That was also weird. And then, there were the spells that collided and extinguished themselves. I sigh. Damn. I really need to do some research, because I am willing to bet my life on it that Voldemort will be doing so. I'm certain he didn't have the answers back there and then. He seemed equally astonished as I was.

And I try remembering everything Yoda learnt me about the Force of Nature, but I don't recall anything that can serve as an explanation to the events that transpired. It's all Magic is all around us, yack, yack, yaketyyak, yack. And I roll my eyes to the ceiling. Not helpful at all. I need to go to the library and do some reading. I smirk as I picture myself walking into the Hogwarts' library to check out a few books.

'I just need to borrow these books so I can find out why my Killing Curse missed the Dark Lord. You don't mind, do you Lucius?'

'No, of course not, go right ahead, Miss Granger. Can I be of assistance? And do feel free to leave when you're done.'

Yeah, that's likely to happen. The problem is I know exactly which book I am going to need, Merlin's Laws on Magic. The most dreadful and boring book I ever had the misfortune of reading. I clearly remember hearing of its existence. I was really exited, having read all the adventures of King Arthur as a little child, and then, to hear it was real and Merlin himself wrote a book about his life. I just had to read it. Big, big mistake.

It is a thick and heavy volume, containing more than a thousand pages. All written to boost the glory and greatness of the author himself. His style is utterly pompous, long-winded and condescending. And not a page can pass by without him reminding the reader how sublimely important, brilliant and magnificent he is, and how very honoured you should feel about having the privilege of holding such an important document in your hands. Not, of course, that he thought the reader would have the intelligence to have even the slightest clue as to what he meant, but just too merely look at such a masterpiece is something to be cherished, according to Mr. I-Am-The-Greatest-Sorcerer-Of-All-Time.

'Pfffttt…'

I smile as I recall Ron's reaction on seeing the book. 'Are all the decent books taken from the library?' he said dumbfounded.

And then, there were Fred and George, who snatched the book away from me and started to recite from it mockingly, mimicking a high-and-mighty posture worthy of Merlin.

I did read the book from cover to cover, but I was glad to have finished it and I never lent it again. I'm regretting that now. Because even though the man may have been an arrogant You-Know-What, in between the annoying lines of self-glorification, he wrote down the very concepts of magical laws that still apply today. And I know he wrote something down on continuous misfires and spells that extinguish upon impact. It was written down about one-third into the book and I can almost read the text that was at the bottom of the page; almost. Merlin wrote down an explanation for the occurrence and I recall he wrote lengthy about countering it. It's at the tip of my tongue. I've read it. Arggh!

I hit my head hard against the wall behind me. I can't recall it. Why, why, why did I only take those Horcrux books with me? I should have packed the entire library upon leaving the school, because what's even worse, as the book being out of my reach, is its availability to Voldemort. It's in the Hogwarts library and if my schooldays are any indication than that book will be firmly gathering dust on the shelf. Not a single soul borrowed that book for long. Mostly first years made the mistake and brought it back after a couple of days without having read more than the first page of it. I remember being halfway through it, when Ron noticed I was still reading it and had an eye-popping experience.

Maybe Voldemort hasn't read it. I close my eyes and hit my head against the wall for a second time. Who am I kidding? Of course Mr Tom 'I-Am-The-Biggest-Nerd-Of-Them-All' Riddle has read it. Still, like I said before, it's not exactly a book you reread and if he read it during his Hogwarts days, which was like decades ago, then he may not recall that Merlin wrote this down. And let's face it; he is bound to check out the Dark Arts Volumes first. I hit the back of my head against the wall again. If, if, if … I am so screwed.

Why can't I remember what was on those bloody pages? I have all this useless information floating through my head. Did you know that the skin of a polar bear is black and that its fur is not white, but transparent? And that every year more people get killed by a donkey than from plane crashes; it's illegal to die in the Houses of Parliament; Leonardo Da Vinci invented scissors; a snail can sleep for three years; and spells extinguish upon impact because... ?

Oh well, it was worth a try. I need to get my hands on that book. Oxford University!

Excited, I jump to my feet and the world starts spinning again. I place my hands against the wall and wait for the dizziness to subside. I must have lost a lot of blood, if I get this kind of a response from simply standing up. Too bad, I don't have access to a Blood-Replenishing Potion.

Anyway, Oxford University, the address of the safe 'house' Remus Lupin handed me. He gave Harry, Ron and me each a different address where we could hide in the event one of the three of us was captured. And he gave me the location of the place where he and Moody moved the dangerous items too that were originally stationed in 12 Grimmauld Place. The entire Black Family Library was taken there as well. The Order deemed it preferable if the Death Eaters did not get there hands on it. And the Blacks might have had such a valuable and ancient book as Merlin's in their possession. I have to check. It is my best option.

Though, it is also a rather dangerous one. I can't go about Transfiguring myself anymore. Healer Nightingale warned me not to do that any time soon, unless I desire to die a thousand deaths. So I'll have to go as me. And the place is to be found past the main entrance; go up the stairs; take the third corridor on my right; and tap three times with my wand on Einstein's statue, casting the word 'relativity'. It will unlock the door to the secret chamber, where hopefully the book is at. Risky.

But I have no choice and it is also risky to remain here, in my parents' house. Someone is bound to find me if I stay. It's too obvious, too high profile. It's probably the reason why no one has checked this place either. They most likely think I won't be stupid enough to go here. Well, you know what guys? I was, but now I am leaving. I keep my wand at the ready.

'Oxford University, past the main entrance, up the stairs, third corridor on the right on the first floor, before the statue of Albert Einstein,' I think.

'Crack.'

And I Apparate on that exact location. I swivel my head around, but the corridor is empty. Thank Merlin.

I quickly tap with my wand on Einstein's nose three times and whisper: 'relativity.'

A soft click sounds through the corridor and the bust moves forward and to the side. I step inside the secret chamber and the entrance closes behind me automatically. I made it! The secret room is a large, spacious place, but the walls are covered with stuff. Boxes and boxes are placed in a seemingly random manner. It all looks more like a disorganised storage facility than a safe haven for a bunch of refugees. I look at the mess and raise my wand.

'Accio Merlin's Laws on Magic!' I cast.

A rumbling noise comes from one of the boxes, until a book bursts through the cardboard material and lands in my hands. I love the Blacks. I really, really do. Right now, I can even hug Sirius's mom. At least, Voldemort won't be the only one with the information. I pull one of the chairs out of the corner and sit down with the book in my lap. I flip through the leaves, until I've reached the desired page and I start reading vigorously. I read and read; and the further I get, the more blood gets drained from my face. A cold feeling makes its way through my veins as I read Merlin's obnoxious comments. And finally, I have reached the end; I close my eyes; lean back in the chair, and rest my hands on the pages. No fucking way!

No, no, no, no, no. And I shake my head to emphasise my clear disagreement with Merlin's assessments. There must be a mistake. Merlin's wrong. He has to be. This can not be right. This isn't right. There are so many things not right about this; I don't even know where to begin. There must be another explanation. This is not happening, impossible, out of the question, never ever in a million years…

Yoda! He must have known this. And I groan as I remember our last discussion.

'You have time, Hermione. You need the time, you are not ready.'

'Hermione, you've reached results in the last nine years that were only surpassed by one other person before. You have a gift. You're the one. Do not make the same mistake he did by leaving prematurely. You can not go after Lord Voldemort in your current condition. Remember what happened a week ago.'

'You need to finish your lessons. Do not make this mistake, I beg of you.'

'You will not be coming back, not as you are now,' Yoda said softly. 'You will become him. You will fall and then all hope will have left this world. You will be his for eternity. Please stay and finish your teachings.'

Yoda must have known. He should have told me. Why didn't he warn me about this? I might have stayed had I known this wonderful surprise was a factor. Why didn't he say anything? I rub my hands through my hair in clear frustration. That little, sneaky, conniving, rotten, evil, yeah evil, devious, plotting, manipulative, sorry arse of a monk. If I get out of this country before Voldemort finds me, I swear I will tear down that place, until there isn't a single stone left standing on top of another.

I look at my lap. The dreaded book is mocking my presence. Blasted Merlin, why did he have to write everything down? He could have kept this bit to himself, but nooo, he had to show everybody how clever he was. Well, if he was so damn clever why didn't he…

There must be another explanation! Maybe I've misread. Or I've misinterpreted something. I grab the book, flip the pages backwards and reread the entire section. Hoping beyond hope, there is something there that I missed the first time around. But when I'm done reading it for the second time, I sigh in clear resignation. This is the worst day of my life. This has to be a dream; a nightmare. This possibly can't be a reality. In a few moments, Mrs Weasley will be knocking on Ginny's bedroom door and tell us breakfast is ready. I close my eyes and wait for the knocking sounds to arrive. But nothing but silence is tormenting my ears. I open my eyes again and I am still greeted by the same walls inside the secret chamber at Oxford.

I am so doomed. I have no illusions of grandeur concerning my own capabilities. Voldemort is going to do a little happy dance when he reads or remembers that text. I need to get out of this country, now. It may not even help, but it's my only chance. I have to find a way to sneak past those International Anti-Apparation Wards.

Fortunately, the Amulet of Aine is safe, safer than me. I can't lead him there. So the man will remain very mortal. Eventually, this will all end. A small comfort, I know, but since it is my only one, I cling to it.

'BANG!'

A loud explosion roars through the building I am in, and the walls tremble upon its force. I jump to my feet. Only to be remembered that I need to move with caution, since that dizzy feeling is overtaking me again.

'I don't have time for this,' I say forcefully to myself. 'Get a grip and stop mocking about.'

Another explosion and dust falls from the ceiling as the building shakes again. The world stops spinning and I move to the exit. Worried, I look around the room. These are the items the Order deemed imperative to keep out of the Dark Lord's grasp. I look at the book in my hands. I can't take it with me. If I am caught the information will be his immediately. I don't know how long it will take him to retrieve the book from the Hogwarts library, but I rather not assist in the matter.

'BANG!'

I need to go. I toss the book on the floor, grab the doorknob and look at the place with regret in my eyes. This would have been a fine place to hide for a while. Alas, those bloody muggle-bashing idiots have decided today is a great day to attack a university. I raise my wand at the room. I feel a lot of shame for what I am about to do. The Black Library contains loads and loads of valuable and rare books, but the Order was explicit in their desire to keep these things from him.

'The Order ceased to exist ages ago,' a daunting voice in the back of my head says. 'You can't destroy all this knowledge simply for the off change Voldemort will find it.'

Screams are coming for the corridor the chamber is adjacent too. I roll my wand through my hand, contemplating on the dilemma at hand.

'It's a sin to burn books; a crime. I really shouldn't,' I think, biting my lip. 'There may be a unique copy between them. How much does it matter if he finds this as well? The knowledge will be lost forever, if I burn it all. I can't. I just can't burn a book; let alone more than one.'

And I lower my wand, before opening the hidden door to find out what the entire ruckus is about. It turns out to be one of those 'let's kill a muggle because he is smarter than me' days. But they aren't counting on my presence, and after reading what I've just read, I take great comfort in knowing that at least this time around I will win. And I hex witch after witch, wizard after wizard into oblivion. I'm kind of enjoying myself at the ease in which these imbeciles go down. Perhaps, this lesson will make them think twice the next time they are considering to torture innocent people. It's when I hear the multiple cracks of the Ministerial Teams arriving that I find it prudent to leave the scene and I Disapparate out of there.

That night I sleep in the woods, underneath a blanket of twinkling stars and a bright almost full moon. I thank the weather gods for this beautiful warm summer night as I fall asleep. The next morning I set off for London. I need to see if I can find a way past those wards. The moment Lord Voldemort obtains the information from Merlin's book I am screwed. So I need to take some risks in order to, maybe, escape this country. It will be a lot harder for him to find me, if he has to do a global search. I point my wand at myself, concentrate and try hard to forget the Healer's warnings when I Transfigure my appearance again.

My breath of relieve fills the air, when I don't crash down to the ground in agony, and all that changes are my features. Upon arriving at the Ministry I see I shouldn't have bothered coming here at all. There is no way out. The protection surrounding the Nation Wide Wards is tremendous. I can't possibly get close enough to cause enough damage for them to break. And if there is a weak spot somewhere in those wards, they sure as hell aren't advertising with it. I'm really stuck here. Maybe now is a good time to learn how to swim, because flying really is out of the question.

An empty cottage at the British coastline enables me to sleep in a bed once more and I fall asleep almost instantaneously. The sunlight shines brightly in my face when I wake the next morning. I feel extremely rested for a change as I yawn and stretch my limbs to wake properly. I shriek when I hear the rustle of feathers. A brown speckled owl is sitting on the ground beside my bed. No, the owl is sitting on a parcel on the ground beside my bed. Puzzled and slightly bemused I look at the owl who is now hooting at me impatiently. How did the bird get inside? I didn't leave any of the windows open.

Another restless hoot from the owl.

'Yes, I see you. Just a minute, I'll get you something to eat,' I tell the owl.

I don't exactly carry owl-treats on me these days. So I check the room. 'Stupify!'

The stunner hits the mouse, who will become the owl's breakfast this morning. I pick up the mouse on its tail by my thumb and index finger; and I walk toward the now very excitedly hooting, feather-rustling and hopping owl. The owl practically snatches the mouse out of my hand and starts eating eagerly, leaving me to take the package from the ground myself.

'Who could be sending me a package?' I think and I watch the package suspiciously.

I wave my wand through the air and check the parcel for curses and other unhealthy additions, but it is clean. So I pick up the neatly wrapped package. It's pretty heavy. I check it back and forth, but there is no note attached to it. I unwrap the brown paper and an off-white envelope, with my name written down in a neat and elegant handwriting, is lying on top of a very familiar book. It feels like someone is twisting my insides into a tight knot as I look at Merlin's Laws on Magic that is resting calmly in between the paper. He found the book. I sigh. Lord Voldemort has found the book. I'm so dead now.

I don't remember how long I sat there; silently, unmoving. Eventually, I look at the envelope. I dread opening it, but I know sitting here won't make this situation disappear. I pick up the envelope and notice that my hands are not very steadfast. I have been in rotten situations before, but I've never been this afraid in my life. I open the envelope and unfold the letter.

Dear Hermione,

I can just see the glee on his features, when he wrote down the beginning of this letter in such an informal manner.

I trust you recognise the book before you. However pompous and boring Merlin wrote down his life's work, I sincerely doubt you have not read it from cover to cover before. I daresay, it contains some rather interesting information, wouldn't you agree? If you don't know what I am talking about, then I recommend (re-?)reading page 308 through 319. Those pages will clear up any misunderstandings you may have, but somehow I feel this is not news to you.

So I will get to the point. You have until ten o'clock tonight to appear before me. I will leave the wards around Hogsmeade down for the entire day, so you can Apparate directly into the town without having to worry about using an Apparation Portal. I've given strict orders to my servants not to harm you, so I will appreciate it if you will restrain yourself from hexing them. If you are not here on time, you will leave me with no other choice, but to go out and retrieve you myself. You do not want that, Hermione. Trust me. I will not be pleased if you waste my time. Until we meet again tonight.

With kind regards,

Lord Voldemort

I feel like I can't breathe. I am unable to breathe. I'm not getting any air in at all. You need oxygen to stay alive. I run outside to get some fresh air and I stand on the beach with my hands on my knees desperately searching for some relieve. It's when I realise I am freaking out and I try to control myself.

'Come on, Hermione, there is nothing wrong with your respiratory system. Just inhale and exhale, there is nothing more to it. Inhale and exhale, that's it,' I say to myself.

Oh, I'm definitely doomed now.

When I have calmed down, I watch the North Sea before me. Wave after wave is striking the coast. It's a beautiful, warm and sunny day in July, but that does not relieve me of my burden and fear. The water is inviting me over, but I can't swim past those wards, because I never learnt how. A wave strikes my feet and I walk a short distance into the water. It's when I am in knee-deep water that I realise I can't swim. So if I walk on, then I'll drown and this will all be over. I stand there while the waves swirl around me, but I can't seem to take a single step forward. My mind says it is the most sensible thing to do. I know it will be over quick. Drowning is said to be a relatively soft death, but it scares the shit out of me. I really don't want to die just yet. I'm only twenty-eight.

I turn around and wade back toward the beach. It's pointless anyway. Chances are I'll only make it halfway through drowning, before Voldemort appears and I end up with the nasty experience without the actual benefit of dying. He has read the text after all, so most likely he is already monitoring my movements. I stare at the cottage at the edge of the beach as I cast a charm to dry my clothes and shoes. It really is a beautiful day. And I flash my wand and Apparate to Hogsmeade. I may as well get this over and done with.

As I walk the path toward Hogwarts again, I remember the happier times I had walking this road. It feels more like I'm walking to the gallows right about now. I see the sideway glances several people, who pass me by, throw in my direction and I hear them muttering anxiously: 'Isn't that Hermione Granger?'

But I ignore the stares, the shocked expressions and the whispering. They really aren't the people I'm concerned about and a knot forms around my stomach. The Hogwarts Castle has just gotten into view. It's almost one o'clock; lunch break. The students are all lingering on the grassy fields outside, bathing in the sunlight for what I supposedly think is their last day of school, before the summer holiday starts. They all look at me with different expressions on their faces and what was previously a mere soft whisper of my name is now a lot more vocal.

Suddenly, a little boy tugs at my robe. I look down and he whispers 'good luck', before hurrying away. I'm kind of shocked for the recklessness the tiny eleven year old boy is displaying, but then I remember three others, who jumped through a trapdoor past a three headed dog, straight into a bush of Devil's Snare. And I acknowledge that resistance can be found in the smallest of men. Several other students wish me well underneath their breath as I cross the field. I don't respond, not wishing to get them harmed. But their daring does lighten me up considerably and a new found courage enters my heart. I may be walking to my own doom here, but I will do whatever I can to not make it easy on him. If he thinks he has already won, then I have news for him.

I walk up the flight of steps to the front entrance of the castle when the pointed face of Lucius Malfoy comes into view. His cold, grey eyes are watching me condescendingly, but I'm not even remotely concerned with his demeanour. He can look down on me all he wants. I never cared what his kind thinks of me and I never will; arrogant toerag. However, he blocks my path by placing that sissy cane of his into the door frame. Quickly, I draw my wand and press it into his throat.

'Out of my way, Malfoy,' I hiss quietly.

'Don't think for a moment, Mudblood,' he spats, 'that I want to be close to the likes of you, but you will not be allowed unlimited access to this castle.'

'Fine by me,' I say and I turn around and start descending the steps. 'Feel free to inform the Dark Lord on my behalf that you were responsible for my departure.'

Malfoy runs down the steps and halts in front of me, blocking my path in the other direction. So I quirk an eyebrow.

'Try to make up your mind, Lucius,' I say mocking. 'Do tell, does this sudden change of heart have anything to do with you wetting your pants upon realising you will have to tell Lord Voldemort that I left because of you?'

'You will follow me to the Dark Lord's chambers,' he snarls. 'And don't think for one moment, you are welcome here.'

'Then why don't you share that sentiment with your boss? I'm sure he is most anxious to hear how you feel about matters,' I say in the most condescending and sarcastic tone I can muster.

His hand twitches and I see how the hilt of his cane parts from its holster, but he stops drawing his wand halfway through. Too bad, I wouldn't have minded the opportunity to hex his pureblood arse, but he stalks back into the castle without another word and I follow him in with a smirk plastered all over my face. If Lucius only knew that his stupid behaviour merely helped me regain my courage, he probably wouldn't have said a word to me. But as we exchanged insults, the tight knot disappeared from my stomach, and I feel a lot lighter as we ascend the staircases to the Headmaster's Office. We step through the painting and walk to the second door on the right. Lucius knocks and a familiar voice tells him to enter. Lucius strides in before me and all I think, is that proper manners must have skipped this pureblood's upraising.

I look around curiously after I enter the study chamber annex library. The walls are completely covered with books and there is a seating arrangement surrounding the hearth. A large desk is stationed in front of the window that Voldemort is currently looking out of. His magic is already surrounding me, working its way into my very being. No doubt he is trying to intimidate and frighten me. Unfortunately, it is working, because that blasted knot returns to my stomach and I feel my chest constricting. I'm having trouble breathing again.

'My Lord, the girl has arrived.'

'Leave us,' Voldemort orders without turning around.

Lucius hurries away. Right now, I feel like running away for as long and fast as I can, but I merely stand there, like a deer caught in the headlights of a moving car. It is silent after the door closes with a soft thud, uncomfortably silent. And I feel Voldemort's presence around me, though he is still standing there at the window. A heavy gulf restricts me and I panic when I realise I can't move a muscle. My heart is pounding painfully in my chest, and now I know I'm not imagining my breathing problems, as I did before in the cottage. I really can't breathe.

Slowly, Voldemort turns around and looks at my apprehensive state with a small smile on his face. I want to say something, but I can't. He lazily glides toward me, until he is in front of me. He is taking his time in checking my utterly terrified appearance with those penetrating crimson eyes of his. His head tilts to the side and I see his amusement at my discomfort and pain. He needs to let go now. I can't possibly take this anymore, but he starts circling me in an ever so dilatory manner. He is doing it on purpose; I can see it in his eyes. He is revelling in my despair, my unease for being out of control. I'm about to lose consciousness do to my inability to breathe, when he halts right beside me and places his hand on my ribcage. I gasp violently, when my lungs fill up with air, which is not done out of their own volition. Another hand is placed at the back of my skull and I can feel the smirk when his breath touches my cheek.

'Welcome back, Hermione.'
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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory