Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Parallel Dilemma	By : MJurjevic Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 8115 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter fandom, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter Ten: Consternations by nagandsev
Summary: Hermione and Sirius must return to the Department of Mysteries. There, the unexpected happens.
A/N: My greatest thanks to Proulxes for her beta help and contribution; her nudging and encouraging me with this Hermione and Sirius tale is greatly appreciated beyond words!
                                                             oOoOoOo
Hermione took a deep breath and then said, "It’s definitely him—my Marcus."
Sirius froze. "What happened in the Restricted Section?"
"He knows I know." Her voice became stronger. "He knows I know how he did it—every horrid step of the process. In the Restricted Section, the book, Elementum Deorc Coercere ande Coarcere: Blod ande Fortia— I found the curse, the steps taken. It is all about exsanguinations used for Dark curses. It’s in the book, only the constellational coordinates are left—" She broke off, overwhelmed by panic, clutching at the front of his shirt.
"Shhh…. Shhh, love," he urged quietly.
She was trembling, and Sirius guided her to sit down in the old, wooden desk chair. Hermione tried to force herself to breathe more calmly, gripping the arms of the chair as she struggled to compose herself.
Sirius knelt before her, rubbing his hand soothingly on her arm. "Hermione, what are you talking about?" he asked quietly, his eyes searching hers.
She shot a wild look at him. "I—I just…" She couldn’t speak about it. Frantically, she collected the parchments with the notes from Herpo’s treatise from her desk and thrust them at Sirius. "R—read this. It’s easier than me repeating the horrid—I’ll look for the constellation coordinates! They’re the missing link!"
Sirius started to question her further, but then stopped and sat on her desk’s edge near her, reading her notes one by one. As she watched him read, his brow furrowed with concentration as he tried to make sense of her notes; she felt her heart rate steadily reduce and her panic recede. We can do this, she thought, Together!
Hermione grabbed the book Constellations of the Magical Heavens beside the old astrolabe and flicked through the pages until she found again the methods and processes for sojourning the constellations.
She glanced up at Sirius in between her skimming as he read through the parchments, watching his complexion redden several shades and his jaw muscles flex in tension. She waited until he seemed to have finished reading through everything and then broke the tense silence.
"Here’s also a citation with reference to Herpo’s treatise about…" Her voice faltered as the hard look on Sirius’ face had a miserable expression, unnerving her momentarily. She gently continued, "The murdering of the first living object, draining and suctioning the life force, capturing it, and the usage of the second living victim—"

"That bastard touched you, used you," whispered Sirius, his voice revealing the pain he was feeling and containing inside. "Raped you, your body and soul? Took a part of your essence?"
Hermione rose, not allowing her mind to go there—to contemplate what exactly had been done to her, recognizing that she needed to keep Sirius on track, needed him more than ever to be rational and to keep calm, for both of them to stay as calm as possible. She was barely hanging on as it was.
She touched his arm gently and reminded him, "The same was done to you. But, we both survived, didn’t we?" She saw that Sirius’ eyes were moist, and suddenly, they embraced and held each other tight.
His voice was thick and low as he whispered in her hair, "I’m going to kill him. Forgive me—"
"Sirius, no!"
She clutched on to him, feeling a physical strength she never knew she had as she ferociously held him in place with everything she had short of hexing him.
"Sirius! I need you! Don’t —no, listen to me!" Panting, she took his face between her hands, his scruffy stubble tickled her fingers and his stormy grey eyes flashed with wild, pent up emotion that seared her to the core.
Fiercely, she whispered, "Sirius, listen to me. Please… stay calm. I need you." Uncontrollably, her eyes welled up with tears, and she pulled his head down till his forehead touched hers. Her breath and his became one. Their lips became one. Searching. Searching for emotional wounds and needing to comfort. Searching to heal each other with that kiss.
With a guttural sound, he abruptly broke from her, pleading in a tight voice, "Tell me. Tell me what to do, Hermione." His eyes burned desperately. "I have to… What do you want me to do?"
She kissed him softly on the lips and said, "Be with me. Don’t lose it." She gave him a small smile as she ran her fingers through his dark hair. "Don’t blow our cover, right, Head Auror Black?"
His breathing seemed to calm down, although he still looked like he would pounce on anything that moved. She explained carefully, "Just a little bit more time… and we’ll have all of the concrete evidence, all of the pieces put together. Sirius, you said that in your universe, Moody was murdered." She scrunched her face trying to recall more of their initial conversations. "That you and your partner were investigating it in your Department of Mysteries?"
Sirius’ face was stonelike as he whispered, "Yes."
"How?"
"No. Not for all the world will—"
"Tell me. I must know the details."
Pained, Sirius winced and looked like he needed to spit, his jaw muscles flexed, being clenched so tight. "He was… His body was mutilated. We found… pieces of him. I’ve seen a lot in my lifetime, but never anything like that. Like a bloody animal butchered, inch by inch."
Worse than splinching? A memory of Ron’s splinched, bloody body when they were on the run from Death Eaters during the war flashed through her mind, and she understood Sirius’ reluctance. She swallowed hard and took a second but then forced herself to continue, saying, "I think Mad-Eye was the initial sacrifice, the initial murder, killed for his life force, harnessed in an object, an amulet." Pansy’s glittering bauble on her necklace flashed in Hermione’s mind. "And you—you were the second object—the living conduit, used as the transporting source."
Sirius took her hand in his as he asked, his voice raspy and tense, "And your universe? You were the living conduit, but then who was the first victim murdered for their life energy?"
Hermione searched her memories again. "I don’t—I can’t remember recent murders but… several people had gone missing in the past year. Justin Finch-Fletchley, Susan Bones… and I think—" Suddenly, Hermione felt a new wave of apprehension. "Pansy! Pansy Parkinson? No, that doesn’t make sense. I mean, Marcus and Pansy are involved—they have some kind of relationship—whatever it is, it doesn’t make sense that she would have been harmed by him."
Sirius’ eyes narrowed as he gave Hermione a bittersweet smile. "I think—I think it does make sense, perhaps the only thing that does about them. It’s a connection. Another missing link."
She frowned in disagreement. "Sirius, he wouldn’t murder Pansy in any universe. Us, yes! Her, no!"
"Hermione, this bastard is capable of unspeakable things. Why should she be excluded?"
Hermione shook her head. "He’s in love with her, Sirius—or whatever you want to call it. You’ve seen how he’s protective about her; he looked utterly feral, was going to attack you that day at the Restricted Section if you’d insulted her further."
"Exactly."
Her mind was racing as fast as her heart as she spoke aloud, "But if… if say, Flint did murder Parkinson in my universe, took and used me as the living conduit, and then in yours, Moody was murdered and you were used, how did the Pansy in your universe and the Marcus in mine come together?"
Neither spoke for several seconds, contemplating possibilities.
"Herpo’s treaties," said Sirius bitterly, "are recordings from the darkest experimentations. An account of the vilest ways to perform magic—true perversions of our powers. You’ve heard of the Muggle saying, ‘the ends justifies the means’?" He gave a small, humourless smile as she nodded. "My parents would have argued that such abominable actions pushed magic further… advanced it, even." Sirius clenched his teeth, falling silent.
Hermione frowned, her fingers gripping the soft material of his shirt. "There’s another Muggle saying," she began quietly. Her eyes searched his. "Practice makes perfect."
He nodded. "My parents and other Dark practitioners knew that such experiments were not always successful, that it was necessary to experiment further before perfection could be attained." He shivered slightly beneath her hands. "You should have seen some of the things that went on in our cellars at home when I was a kid. If Flint and Parkinson were determined to accomplish this spell… well… they most likely would have needed to practice together… experiment multiple times."
"But that would mean others were used—murdered—murdered to fulfill the curse’s requirements… like Horcruxes," she stammered, her heart thundering in her chest.
"And like Horcruxes, the wizard containing it would become unstable… highly unstable. Vile acts of violation leave their marks on one permanently," Sirius agreed.
What else do we need before revealing all to Shacklebolt? "Sirius, we need one more part in order to detail everything for the Minister. Another missing link. The coordinates. It’s too risky to reveal everything without this final concrete, missing information." She was centered again, able to think things through.
"Unless we have it, Flint will twist what we say somehow and use the time to escape or," she swallowed hard, "kill again! To kill you or me, Sirius—I saw how he looked at me just before I came into the meeting; it’s just a matter of time. Time, which we’re running out of."
"Not if I kill him first—he is not going to harm you ever again!" He had grasped her shoulders and was squeezing so tight she winced.
"No, you’re better than him. He’ll be incarcerated—"
"The Dementors would be too merciful for the likes of that shit—"
"Sirius, we need Flint alive; we need more answers, more proof—the celestial coordinates will have to be shown, proven—wait! I can show you here the coordinates, and you’ll see what I mean. He said these astrolabes were charmed to project the heavens, the constellations anywhere. Here, on the office wall!"
She frantically grabbed the astrolabe. "Let me just set the coordinates and—" She pushed and jiggled on the rete. But, it wouldn’t budge. "There’s something wrong; it’s jammed."
"Fuck the astrolabe, Hermione, forget the coordinates—I’ll force any information we need out of the bastard. He’ll repeat it as often as needed after I’m through with him."
Sirius instinctively made as if to leave, and Hermione grabbed his arm, reminding him to stay by explaining, "No, Sirius. Be patient, wait. Look, Flint taunted me with the information while trying to intimidate me, but he gave me what we need to prove the exact compilations. He said I needed to align the coordinates of latitude in the Orion constellation and…" Anxious, she bit her lip as her eidetic-like memory strained to recall his words. "Latitude between +60° and −90°." She shoved at the rete again, straining in effort to get it to move.
"The Orion constellation?" His face was concerned, watching her struggle to get the rete to move.
Hermione’s swelling frustration exploded, and she whipped her wand up, pointing it at the rete, crying, "Mobilium! Alohamora!"
Nothing happened. Hermione let out a whimper of frustration. "No! It has to work! Why isn’t the confounded thing working?"
"They are usually protected with all sorts of damn charms. Where’s this one from exactly?"
Hermione was holding back her tears of frustration. "The Time Room, I think. It was a special astrolabe lent to me—and now something’s wrong!"
"If it’s that important, let’s just pop down and get another one, alright?" It was Sirius’ turn to be the voice of reason. "Then we’ll come right back, finish the coordinates that you’re going on about, and then go straight to Shacklebolt with all the facts." Sirius started for the door, turning and saying, "You said the Time Room, not the Space Room?"
"Yes! Although we should check the Space Room while we’re down there to see which constellations are predominant. We might have to wait until Orion is rising." She started to rush out and had another second thought, trying to think ahead. Maybe I have to exchange it, like a library book! Hermione grabbed the jammed astrolabe and then followed Sirius hurriedly to the lift. "The Department of Mysteries."
Hermione’s thoughts were in a whirl as they descended, and suddenly it occurred to her. "Parkinson! She might be the Keeper on duty, Sirius. Are you—"
"Nah, don’t worry. I’ll control myself around her." His eyes narrowed as he thought about something. "But if she’s definitely my Pansy, then..."
"What is it, Sirius?"
He looked unsure about something. "Hermione, there hasn’t been time or opportunity to talk about it, but in these past few days, I’ve also been having these glimpses of images, possibly memories of there." He continued in a low voice, "In my universe, I was captured by Voldemort, his prisoner."
Sirius’ forehead furrowed; he seemed to be struggling with remembering things. "I was a spy for Dumbledore, the Order... After being captured, I had to go along with what Voldemort offered to survive. Parkinson, she was there, during my torture, during my incarceration and initiation." He gnashed his teeth. "I distinctly remember her staring at me, mumbling something. But the rest is like a blur."
She waited, unsure of what else he would say, quietly understanding his difficulty.

"Except some other memories... Parkinson came to me in the dungeon vault that was my cell. She was crying, said she was a mole as well and to trust her. She touched me. We touched. We—" Sirius huffed. "I don’t know if these memories were planted in my mind by her or Voldemort or if they are real—"
Hermione touched his arm to reassure him. "Sirius, whatever happened between the two of you, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter now. All that matters at this moment is that we get this final content, present everything to Shacklebolt, and then, then we’ll talk about everything else—"
Their eyes met. Then their lips. Slowly. Softly.
He broke the kiss and backed away; his eyes still troubled. "Let’s get this bloody astrolabe returned, shall we?"
The lift came to a halt. The cargo doors were opened by Sirius, who motioned to the Department of Mysteries ninth floor. "The Time Room, yes?"
"Sirius, we’ll find out if Pansy—"
He put a finger up to his lips and made a soft shushing sound. His eyes were sad but he smiled, whispering, "The walls have ears."
The glow of whitish light lit the black-tiled walls of the department’s corridor, causing Hermione’s sense of alertness to sharpen.
As they walked towards the plain black door to the Entrance Chamber, a pressure in her chest began to throb. She saw Pansy Parkinson come out of the inner Department proper and walk towards them, her amulet glistening on her cleavage.
"What do you two want?" she asked neutrally.
Sirius was giving Parkinson a strange look, and Hermione jumped in, saying, "This astrolabe isn’t working properly; the rete seems to be jammed. I need to exchange it for another one."
"What did you do to it, Granger?"
"Nothing. I—"
"Three is the charm," purred Pansy cryptically. "Three days."
"I think you mean ‘third times a charm’, and what does that have to do with anything?" snapped Hermione, suddenly irritated by Parkinson’s smug smile.
"Let me explain so you’ll understand; you like explanations, don’t you, Granger?"
"Just get her another bloody astrolabe, Parkinson!" barked Sirius, his agitation barely able to be controlled.
Ignoring him, Pansy informed her, "These astrolabes from the Department are routinely charmed to deter someone from disappearing with them accidentally on purpose. Three days. After each third day, one will freeze up, only to unlock itself when an assigned constellation is at its zenith."
She gave Hermione a crooked smile. "This one is charmed to reopen when Canis Major is at its zenith."
"How was I to know which constellation?" huffed Hermione, also losing patience.
"Silly, Sirius, you should have known that and told the clever witch," said Pansy, cutting her off.
"Parkinson, address me properly. Don’t speak to me that way again."
"Why not? I’ve called you by your first name before. Don’t you remember?" Pansy gave him a sardonic look.
Sirius’ face darkened, and Hermione knew he was about to snap as he warned through gritted teeth, "You have about ten seconds to take us to the Time Room before I reprimand you, Parkinson."
"Follow me then," Parkinson said coolly as she led them back and into the circular room.
They followed Pansy to one of the multiple, handleless doors.
The Unspeakable instructed, "Stop here." And then she whispered a request to the black door.
An echoing click sound was heard, and as she opened the Time Chamber and they followed her in, she turned sharply to Hermione. "The astrolabe, Granger?" Pansy seemed to be struggling not to sneer, her extreme dislike of her and Sirius barely containable.
Sirius had become completely morose and glared at Parkinson as if he would throw a hex at any second.
"Here," answered Hermione, handing it over as she glanced around the long, rectangular room. She started to vaguely remember something, a flashback of another time and place and person in the same space with her. Marcus!
"I hope it’s not damaged in any other way? Maybe you and Black did something else to it?" She arched a black penciled-in eyebrow, giving her heavily painted face a strangely crazed look as she focused on Sirius.
"No, it froze," repeated Hermione pointedly. There was something about Parkinson’s expression, contrasting the beautiful dancing light from the sparkling gems in the mysterious room, that snagged Hermione’s attention.
The luminous space suddenly seemed to have a jarring effect; she looked around perplexed momentarily before snapping, "Maybe you should just focus on the business at hand, Parkinson?"
"Which is what, Granger?"
Pansy gave her a surprised look as Hermione continued irritably, "I need another astrolabe, and then, Black and I need to go to the Space Chamber briefly!"
Pansy gave her a smug smile. "By all means, my business is merely to see that you return all Department of Mysteries’ property accordingly, assist you, and escort you to any destination you wish. You have carte blanche, as always, Granger." She placed the former astrolabe down on a shelf and drew out another one, handing it to her. "Return in three days, remember? Not that I think you’ll need it for that long. Now, if you would… and you, Head Auror Black. Guests first," she purred, gesturing to the door for them to leave.
Once they were out in the dark marbled corridor, the walls rotated, and Parkinson swiftly motioned to them to follow her again, stopping in front of one of the unmarked doors. She spoke a cryptic request, and the door opened. "The Space Chamber." She stepped back and waited for them to enter before her.
As they passed in front of the Unspeakable, Hermione saw Sirius quirk his head, reflecting her own sudden feeling that something was off, as he said, "Wand ready, Hermione." Sharply, he snapped, "You’re not needed, Parkinson. Stay here."
Pansy started to retort something, but stopped herself and merely gave Sirius a dark smirk instead.
Hermione stepped through the doorway, followed by Sirius, and stopped dead in her tracks, exclaiming, "But this isn’t the Space Chamber; it’s the Death—"
In a flash, her and Sirius’ wands were hexed away from them, leaving them wandless and backing up in the dimly lit room. The sound of the astrolabe thudding to the stone surface was heard.
"Ambushed!" Sirius was cursing under his breath.
"That’s it, nice and easy, to the centre you two," instructed a male voice that caused both Sirius and Hermione to jerk their heads towards the speaker in disbelief. Marcus!
Flint’s and Parkinson’s wands were pointed straight at them, and Hermione saw that hers and Sirius’ wands were gripped tightly in the Hit Wizard’s other hand.
"To the Veil, the Veil," joined Pansy in a sing-song cadence, following behind Flint. She placed her hand on her partner’s shoulder and stared balefully at Sirius and Hermione in such a crazed way as to give Bellatrix Lestrange a run for her money.
"Brilliant, Marcus, brilliant," Pansy cooed. "You told me to be patient, to be on guard, and finally, we’ve got them—just where we want them."
Flint’s eyes shined with deadly determination. He pointed his wand higher at them, poised and ready to curse them in a flat second. "Like the lady said, to the dais!"
Hermione peered at the dreaded ancient, crumbling stone archway with its tattered black curtains fluttering as if by a faint wind. She began trembling as she and Sirius were forced to slowly shuffle towards the stone dais, but felt him take and squeeze her hand.
"Are you going to be man enough to tell us why, Flint? Or are you just going to be a cowardly worm, your usual self?"
A sickening leer washed over Marcus’s face as he informed Sirius, "I’m going to watch you watch this meddlesome Mudblood go to her death first, and then maybe, if I’m humoured enough, if you’re suffering enough, I might tell you."
"Oh, I see," began Sirius, licking his lips, and Hermione knew he was beginning a tactic to stall for time. "It couldn’t be that I know what a sweet tart ol’ Pansy here is."
"Shut it!" yelled Flint, sending a stinging hex, hitting Black straight in the chest, the impact knocking him down on the stone space to the right of the archway. Sirius made a clumsy twist, trying to get up, as if to lunge at him.
"Oh, no, you don’t—not so fast, Black," he sent another stunning hex, hitting Sirius hard, stilling him flat. "Your death is not going to be that quick. Pansy!"
Parkinson swiftly came around and grabbed Hermione by the hair, pulling her back and placing her wand’s tip against her cheek. She hissed fiercely into Hermione’s ear, "One stupid move, Granger, and you’ll watch Black burn to death in front of you!"
To add on to her utter shock, with a quick movement, Flint threw her and Sirius’ wands through the Veil. There was a sudden explosion from within it, and a hot, strong breeze puffed out, then just as quickly, ceased. Flint leered at her. "Won’t be needing them, anymore, will you, Granger?"
Hermione ceased to struggle or to entertain thoughts of physically fighting back for the moment. Her thoughts raced on how to somehow outwit Parkinson and Flint and save her and Sirius. Her chest tightened as her heart began to race thinking about the result of any vain attempt she could try. The dread presence of the Veil was right in front of them, and she and Sirius had been rendered helpless as Pansy’s wand digging into her skin painfully reminded her. She screamed in her mind as she witnessed Flint continue to inflict pain on Sirius.
Parkinson jarred her from her thoughts. "Want to see her dance, Marcus? I’ll make her dance—I’ll make her do whatever you want to," Pansy whispered hotly in Granger’s ear while staring adoringly at Flint.
Pausing for a second, Flint’s face hardened in a sad, painful guise. He spoke quietly to her, saying, "No, Pansy, just hold her tight, make sure she doesn’t interfere. If you need to, stun her, although I’d prefer her to be completely aware of every fucking thing that is happening, this time. Not like when you were my lovely suppliant conduit, Granger, eh?"
He turned again to Sirius’ prostrated form. "I’m going to play with my catch a little more. Crucio!"
Hermione couldn’t help herself and twisted and flinched as she was forced to watch Sirius as he screamed and writhed in pain from Marcus’ sadistic ministrations.
As her eyes welled up in tears seeing Sirius tortured, beyond her control, she futilely begged, "Stop it, Marcus! Why?"
Pansy cackled and sent a hex through Hermione’s body, the sensation was like her finger had been stuck in a live electrical socket, hissing, "Quiet, you!"
"Why?" Flint stopped and glared at Hermione but then stepped closer to Sirius, his wand held tight and steady. As he gazed over Sirius’ twisted form, he spat out, "Pansy was incarcerated there—in your time and place—in Azkaban! But only after you tortured her for information—"
"No—" protested Sirius.
"Don’t lie to me!" He slashed with his wand at Sirius’ face, and it began bleeding from the sliced wound that had appeared from his temple down across his cheek. "You used her for the Ministry’s filthy sake, for your filthy sake, getting all sorts of juicy info from her about the Dark Lord’s other followers—and then you threw her away and locked her up like a bloody animal, you fucking blood-traitor!"
"It’s not true… She worked for the Ministry willingly, Flint! She came to me. She was an informant, a mole—" gasped out Sirius.
"Shut it!" yelled Marcus, kicking Sirius hard in the ribs; the sound of cracked bones was heard from his metal-plated boot’s fierce contact over Sirius’ cry of pain.
Hermione saw Sirius’ eyes flashing with rage, the only thing now about him moving other than his chest heaving up and down in his distress.
"And speaking of fucking, how did it feel, Granger?" jeered Flint, abruptly turning to her.
Hermione clenched her teeth, staring down at the floor.
Flint crossed over and grabbed her hair, jerking her head up to look at him. "How did it feel to fuck a follower of the Dark Lord?"
Hermione felt a wave of nausea wash over her at being confronted by the perpetrator himself about what he had done to her. But she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of giving him an answer he wanted to hear. "Don’t know what you’re talking about, Flint!"
A gleeful leer flashed over his face. "Don’t you? ... Oh, I see." He released his grip and then dallied his fingers back and forth between them. "You think I’m referring to you and me? Us, Granger?"
Hermione stared up into the cavernous darkness of the Death Chamber’s empty ceiling, swallowing her saliva hard, willing herself not to be sick.
Flint uncharacteristically touched and caressed Hermione’s face gently as he whispered, "No. No, you serviced me. You were a vital instrument—a necessary object to service me, Investigative Auror Granger." He licked his lips, cocked his head and twirled around to Sirius. "What, can this be possible, Black? She didn’t even know who she was fucking?" He crouched down and grabbed a wad of Sirius’ hair, pulling his head up. "What she was fucking? Well, you are a true slippery piece of work, aren’t you?"
He threw his head down but suddenly sliced his wand at Sirius’ outstretched left arm. "Diffindo!"
The cloth was opened; Flint grabbed Sirius’ arm, forcing the seemingly unblemished forearm to be viewed by all, and poked his wand tip into the forearm. "Corporeus Revelio!"
Hermione felt her heart stop as the sign of Voldemort’s Dark Mark became clearly visible on Sirius’ flesh.

                                                    oOoOoOoOo
Marcus must have seen the look of absolute shock on her face because he began to laugh like a lunatic.
As she stared at Sirius’ arm in disbelief, she heard him rasping, "Hermione, I’m not… It’s not what you think…"
Marcus abruptly stopped his hysterical laughter only to swiftly kick Sirius again in the side, yelling, "Shut it!"
As Sirius groaned and lay in immobilized pain, Marcus turned to Hermione, and a sickeningly sweet look crossed his face as he asked her, "So how does it feel, Granger? To be utterly stupid, totally in the dark about everything you believed in, who you believed in? Hmm?" He grabbed her chin, tightly squeezing it, and roared, "Answer me!"
She felt an irrational desperation come across her, crying out to the least likely person for aid, "Pansy, help us!"
This infuriated Marcus as he snapped and grabbed Hermione from Pansy’s hold and threw her to the ground.
"How bloody fucking dare you ask her for help?" he roared, sending a binding hex, her body tied in cords.
"Before I throw your filthy body through the Veil, let me tell you, Mudblood, what happened to my Pansy there." He stood over her, towering her form as she looked up at him.
"While you were busy being an arse-kissing Ministry official, do you know what happened to my love, to our Pansy?"
Through tear-filled eyes, Hermione could only blink and shake her head in true ignorance.
"That’s right, you didn’t know; bet you didn’t care either, eh? Why would you, you were so busy being the Ministry’s Mudblood poster girl!"
He looked down at her fiercely, but as he began to speak, his face ever so slowly softened. "Pansy’s always been a good girl, Granger. Misunderstood by your lot, but a good girl. Loyal, clever, cunning," he turned and touched Parkinson’s face lovingly, "and passionate… mind-numbingly, fucking passionate. Some might say fanatical."
Hermione saw out of the corner of her eye Sirius inching his way behind Marcus and Pansy.
Flint stepped back, and Hermione could see he was trembling with adrenaline; he apparently was aware of Sirius’ movement for he twirled around, sending a burning, stunning hex at him again. Content he had arrested Sirius’ efforts, he snapped his head back at her and continued, "She even got promoted and became an Unspeakable. Tricky work being an Unspeakable; many just simply disappear. And no one knows where to. No one cares... Just like you, Granger."
He bit his lower lip in agitation. "The Ministry placed my Pansy in the Love Chamber. Funny thing what happens to Unspeakables in the Love Chamber—they become… neutered after a while. They become mad, studying the mystery of love, but no longer able to express it. It becomes trapped inside, and like magic, if it can’t have a release… Well, it explodes… implodes in a way—it destroys the person containing it."
"I searched for her, searched and searched." Flint suddenly had a faraway look in his eyes. "She ceased to exist. No trace." He snapped out of his momentary daze and snarled, "Didn’t even notice, did you, Granger?"
Pansy didn’t cease to exist—you murdered her, Flint! Sirius was right! She shook her head at him, unable to utter a sound. Hermione’s mind and heart were racing, not knowing what to say to deter Flint from his further insane intentions.
"Don’t you remember when I spoke to you about her?"
Swallowing the large lump that had been lodged in her throat from fear, Hermione dared to voice, "No."
She felt the impact of a pointed metal boot kick her. She screamed from the pain, crumpling and rolling over on her side. She was now lying face to face with Sirius, who stared at her, even as he raged at Flint, "You bastard! Leave her alone!"
Ignoring Sirius, Flint fiercely reminded her, "That’s right; you don’t remember because you couldn’t’ve fucking cared less!"
He became still and his voice small and quiet as he informed her, "But then I found Pansy again, my true Pansy, this Pansy, here—we discovered each other, both out of dire needs, through space and time. Through blood and flesh and the life force of the less worthy, I celestially Portkeyed myself here. She from her hell, me from mine—and we met. Our coordinates blissfully crossed, and we knew—we knew we’d finally found what we were looking for!"
Hermione saw Marcus’ eyes shining with unshed tears as he roared, "Here—here there is a chance—a chance for happiness! A chance for our lives, our world to be as it should!"
He began panting, recalling his past efforts. "The calculations I researched, spent my life’s blood in Dark Magic to discover the ancient magical formulas to escape us to here—she from her dimension, me from mine! Where we could finally have a life together in a soon to be solely Pureblood world—where she could be whole again, mine again—" He suddenly crouched down and grabbed Hermione by the sides, lifting her up like a sack as if to show Sirius what he was about to do to her. "Not your fucking Ministry slag, Black!"
Flint hoisted Hermione further up to her feet, holding her tight. "And not the Ministry’s bloody guinea pig!" His spittle was hitting her in the face as he cried, "But then you had to be assigned to the investigation of the phantom intruder in the Department of Mysteries—the bloody fucking Ministry’s poster girl, the Gryffindor know-it-all!"
With one arm holding her tight around her waist, he grabbed her throat with the other hand and started to squeeze it in earnest. "You fucked it up; you made me use you, Granger! It was all your fault; this is all your fault—you fucked us up! You want to fuck us up here with your bloody, non-stop rooting around! So now you’re going to pay; we’re going to get rid of you, once and for all. You’re going to disappear just like my Pansy did!"
He started shuffling Hermione towards the Veil even as Sirius in apparent crippled and agonizing pain attempted to crawl between them and the Veil. Hermione instinctively strained back, struggling against Flint, resisting the inertia to be pushed forward with every ounce of her being.
Hermione heard Pansy cackling wildly, running over and zapping Sirius with a spell, flattening him to the ground, whispering, "Don’t worry, you’re next, Sirius Black. But first, enjoy and watch your little Mudblood slag as she goes to her death."
As Hermione felt her body being shoved forward to the edge of the ancient archway to eternity, the sensation of a siphoning breeze beginning to be felt, Flint crooned, "That’s right; let Black’s last moments be seeing his precious little Mudblood die first!"
A bolt of light soared across the room suddenly, hitting Flint square in the back. He fell over backwards away from the Veil, pulling Hermione down on top of him.
Parkinson screamed, her eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, and with a wild desperate look, she blindly leapt into the Veil.
In horror, Hermione watched Parkinson’s body glow as if ignited on fire, and then within a blink of the eye, it turned transparent, and the ghostly form stared at her in mindless wonder and slowly floated away.
Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry slowly emerged from the shadows, wands raised, pointed at Flint’s collapsed body. As they neared, Harry dispelled the cords around her and helped her move upwards and away from Flint’s unconscious body.
"Sir? Harry?" gasped Hermione, trembling as she knelt and crawled over beside Sirius, gently helping him to roll over. She slowly laid his bleeding head in her lap, lightly patting the blood away from his eyes and mouth with her sleeve.
"You can take the Auror out of the Ministry, but you can’t take the Auror out of the Minister—once an Auror, always an Auror." Kingsley smiled broadly. "Or just call it my sixth sense, my magical sixth sense." He looked at Sirius warmly, casting cleaning and healing spells on him, and added, "Or let’s just say I was listening all along and understood my old friend’s tips more than he knew… and took him seriously."
"Sir?" asked Hermione, uncertain.
"Sirius gave me a head’s up about Flint before Malfoy came for the meeting, although Sirius was being traced before that. But we had to wait until Flint blatantly acted against one of you."
"Sirius traced?" Hermione touched Sirius’ face lovingly, and one hand feather-lightly brushed over the Dark Mark as if to wipe it away. Their eyes burning intensely into each others as she whispered, "We were used as bait?"
"Forgive me," whispered Sirius back.
"You and Sirius were being watched, being accounted for every single moment since the second you Flooed into the Ministry, Hermione," explained Harry.
"But how did you know to come exactly here?"
"We knew Flint would make his move at any second." She saw Harry swallow hard, his eyes flashed with emotion. "All of the murders of the phantom intruder happened here. Ron’s—and Moody’s before that, although Mad-Eye didn’t go through the Veil. He was—well, what’s past is past." Harry pushed his spectacles upward. "So when Flint excused himself during the meeting immediately after you two left to go be with his ‘partner’, we knew he would act. We knew you would be lured here... or forced here. Parkinson was no where to be found in Entrance Chamber or elsewhere in the Department proper… but the door to the Death Chamber was open. They were obviously overeager to act quickly. To force you two through the Veil. Have you disappear, like Ron."
Kingsley smiled warmly at his younger counterparts. "Yes, Harry, all that, and nothing beats a good old-fashioned tracing spell put on our dear Padfoot." He swished his wand, and a blue light emitted briefly around Sirius’ form before fading. "Although, I probably should have you tagged with a permanent one, to help keep you out of trouble."
Sirius managed a cocky smile, saying, "Good luck with that."
Hermione wrapped an arm protectively over Sirius’ chest; she felt the tentative touch of his fingers intertwining with hers. Nodding towards Flint’s unconscious form, she asked, "What’s going to happen to him?"
Shacklebolt gazed in reflection momentarily at Marcus Flint, and then his deep voice boomed, "Justice."
The Minister’s response seemed to spark Sirius back to his more recognizably hot-tempered self. "But first, a little bloody interrogation is needed!"
Hermione gave Sirius a pensive look, quietly saying, "Yes, a lot of questions and answers are still to be expected and needed."
Sirius returned her an intense look. Their interlaced fingers tightened mutually. Hermione whispered to him, "And decisions need to be made."
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Parallel Dilemma