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Prisms of Darkness	By : serpentinred Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 34497 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
Chapter 12
Five years later.
It was nearing Chinese New Year. Chinese characters cut out from red paper and scarlet lanterns were being hung in many stores, and the streets of Hong Kong were more crowded than they usually were.
Hermione Granger walked through the market and inwardly sighed when she saw the amount of people that were milling around the place. However, she knew that the market would be closed for the next couple of days.
Pulling out her shopping list, she went to each and every stand to purchase the items she needed. The lady at the vegetables stand recognized her and added an extra piece of ginger into the bag before handing it to Hermione. The fish merchant managed to hold his expression in check when she asked for crabs; Hermione mentally cringed when she realized that she'd misspoken the word again, though she managed to keep a straight face. After three years of living in Hong Kong, her Cantonese wasn't as horrible as when she'd first arrived—okay, it probably still was the butt of the joke for many of the local residents, but she liked to think that she'd gotten better at it. Nonetheless, the intonations were still a nightmare for her.
People swarmed around her, some stopping to greet familiar faces with good luck and abundance in wealth for the new year. After picking up some fruits, she pulled her shawl a bit closer and searched for the exit which was made harder than usual by the crowd.
She exhaled deeply when the cold late winter wind blew against her face. Though it was still noisy outside, at least it wasn't as difficult to maneuver on the streets. She quickly walked forward, placing the purchases into her bag separately at different intersections, so that people would not wonder how it was possible for all of it to fit. When she stopped at a newspaper stand that sold both Muggle and wizard magazines, a Muggle was just perusing his options, his eyes slipping over the wizard papers as if he couldn't see them—Hermione wouldn't be surprised if there were some form of magic in place.
As the Muggle chatted with the stand keeper, Hermione placed the correct amount of money on small chair before picking up the wizard newspapers. The stand keeper paid her no extra attention, though he gave a short nod, collected the money, and stuffed it into his waist bag.
Inclining her head in thanks, Hermione continued home. Only when she'd stepped through the wards she'd placed on the apartment did she allowed her Charmed features to melt into her original looks.
For some reason (and Hermione had a few good theories of what that reason could be), Voldemort had not placed her name and picture amongst the Undesirables. Therefore, not many wizarding folks would give her a second look. However, the relationship between the Chinese Ministry of Magic and the one under Voldemort's regime seemed to be shaky right now, so she did not want to step into whatever was brewing in between the two sides.
"I'm home," Hermione announced.
"We're in the kitchen!" came the reply.
A soft smile appeared on Hermione's face as she headed towards where the voices were coming from, which grew when she saw her parents laughing lightly at some joke that was unknown to her.
She had no idea if Voldemort knew where she'd gone, but she had been more than thankful to discover that her parents were still safe and sound. After finding them, she'd first Stunned them and Apparated them away from the nice, cozy home they had been living in before she attempted to return their memories to them. She didn't want Lord Voldemort arriving in the middle of the complicated spell she needed to perform on them.
Of course, she'd tested every possible spell on them to make sure they weren't imposters; she'd even waited for the full hour to be certain that they weren't Death Eaters using Polyjuice Potions.
It was a relief, a relief that nearly brought tears to her eyes, when she realized that they were really her parents and when a spark of recognition entered their eyes. For the first time in seven years, Hermione felt some kind of pressure lifted from her shoulders.
But that didn't mean that she didn't wake up at night.
It didn't happen at the beginning. No, she had something else that took her mind off things back then. She had no idea if it was supposed to happen or if it were because the Shkyimestra Potion could actually be activated by Voldemort from a long distance, but at random intervals throughout the day, she would feel an urgent heat travel through her body, yearning for the touch of a certain damned Dark Lord. It took all of her concentration to not Apparate back to Britain and beg him to take her in any way he wanted.
Thankfully, she clinged on to that one cell of logic and conquered those urges, and when the effects of the potion finally faded into the background and then completely disappeared, she'd thought that the nightmares had finally ended.
How utterly wrong she was.
She didn't even remember when it started, but at night, she dreamt of times when she was still at Hogwarts, chatting animatedly with Harry and Ron before the situation always evolved into the same scenario:
"Why have you betrayed us?" Ron would ask before blood started seeping out of their eyes—their noses—their mouths—their ears—their flesh rotting away until nothing was left except bones—
No, she wasn't frightened about their looks, but the pain and accusation in their voices devastated her, and she would end up in tears, begging for their forgiveness. She didn't even know how to explain herself.
And she would cry even harder when Harry and Ginny, sweet, sweet Ginny, would put their arms around her, understanding. It made the guilt weigh even harder on her heart, so much that she thought it would burst.
Then, she would wake up, her pillow wet and her body shaking.
It became a sick routine, and she was glad that she didn't scream or cry too loudly that it would alert her parents.
She wondered why she'd never had these dreams while she was with Voldemort. Perhaps there had been too many things happening at the time, or perhaps she hadn't had the time to self-reflect back then. Maybe it was the guilt finally settling in. However, she did know that the dreams were the manifestation of her remorse. A part of her didn't want the nightmares to go away; it was the only way she could apologize to her dearest friends for falling in love with the enemy.
She was extremely glad that her parents hadn't asked what had happened in the last seven years, though there was a couple of times she could've sworn she saw hesitant looks on their faces. They were confused in regards to why she would alter their looks before allowing them out the house, and after a while, they asked.
"The war against the dark wizards … I've been active in it and I'm afraid that they'll recognize you," she'd explained with difficulty.
Some sort of realization had dawned on Jean Granger's face, and she'd stopped Hugo from asking further. From that day on, they never questioned her instructions.
"It's quite busy out there, isn't it?" Jean commented as she battled the crabs that Hermione had brought back.
"Yeah, it's a riot," Hermione said with a small grin. "I had to battle this lady for the last soy sauce chicken."
Her mother laughed at the confession. "Well, let's hope she finds one somewhere else. We wouldn't want her cursing you at the start of their new year, do we?"
The smile on Hermione's face grew just a bit wider. "No, we don't. I'm sure she'll find a nice fat chicken somewhere else."
That night, after a nice dinner filled with quiet chuckles and casual conversation, Hermione decided to go to bed early.
That night, her dream changed.
She wasn't at Hogwarts. She was somewhere, so familiar, yet so different. Perhaps it was Hogwarts, but she when she ran around the corner, she wondered if she was somehow at Malfoy Manor.
But no, she was running through a forest. The Forbidden Forest? Or was it the Forest of Dean? She couldn't tell.
The trees cleared. She was racing through a field, and then, a body, another corpse, and the numbers grew and grew and grew. Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Professor McGonagall, Kingsley, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, Susan, Hannah—faces she knew among faces she didn't. People who had suffered or died while she lived in peace and stability.
She couldn't breathe, but somehow she kept on running; she couldn't stop herself even while tears fell yet once again.
Her footsteps came to a halting stop when she saw a figure standing amidst the dead. She stared, horrified, as the figure with a head full of bushy hair slowly turned around. The horror-stricken expression was mimicked on her face as well as the tears.
"Why am I still alive?"
~-0-~
Hermione woke up with a start, tears streaming down her face once again. This time, however, she felt someone, a gentle hand brushing the hair away from her face. She turned around and found Jean gazing at her, a look of love, heartache, and sympathy on her face.
"Mum," Hermione murmured as she struggled to sit up. "Sorry—did I wake you up?"
"Shh," Jean hushed, running her hand through Hermione's hair and gently combing through the knots. "No, sweetie. Your dad's still asleep." She looked at Hermione hesitantly before she continued, "I know you haven't been sleeping well."
Hermione stared at her mother, not knowing what to say. She wanted to deny that fact, but perhaps she was too tired of running or maybe she was still devastated from the newest dreams. Words that might put Jean at ease wouldn't leave her mouth, and she remained silent.
"Sweetie, you're a strong, independent girl ever since you were a child, and I'm proud of you. I really am. But sometimes … sometimes, it doesn't hurt to let others help you in carrying the burden," Jean said. "I know there are things in your world that your dad and I don't understand, and I know your dad and I are often busy at the office, but you're my daughter. I know when something's wrong with you. I just didn't know how to talk to you about it because I know you weren't ready to talk about it."
Hermione's lower lip trembled, and again, she thought about lying to her mother, but each fib became weaker than the last in her mind.
"I see how on edge you were when you've first recovered our memories," Jean continued gently. "It was as if you were expecting to be attacked any second. Even before you've made us forget about you, I've never seen you so frightened, as if you were certain something dangerous would happen, and I never hear you talk about Harry or Ron anymore."
Pain flashed over Hermione's face at the mention of her best friends, and when Jean saw that, she sighed. Reaching out with her hand, she cupped Hermione's cheek comfortingly.
Jean added, "I might not understand how your world works, but I might be able to offer you some insight if you're willing to talk to me."
A short silence followed.
"I … I don't know where to begin," Hermione finally admitted in a small voice.
"Take your time," Jean encouraged, holding her hand.
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, not very certain of what to say, and the first words she managed to utter surprised her as well. "Harry and Ron are dead."
Jean froze in her actions for a split second. "What?"
Hermione nodded, sniffling as she fought back tears that threatened to well up again. "Seven years ago."
"How?" Jean whispered, horror etched on her face.
Hermione shook her head, and the words came out scattered, incoherent. "Seven years ago … the war started the year before … and …"
"War?" Jean seemed downright alarmed right now.
"I'm … I'm sorry, Mum. I … I just couldn't tell you at that time. He had it in for Harry, and Harry … I … Mum, I couldn't let him do it alone. I just couldn't. If I hadn't gone with him, he would've … but he still died. Oh Merlin, Harry still died, and I don't even know why he'd lost. Was it because of something I missed? Was it because I didn't do enough? I just … I don't know anymore. I just feel like I'm absolutely rubbish and I should've died with him that day," she sobbed.
"Oh, honey, don't say that," Jean comforted, embracing Hermione. "You are not rubbish, and Harry would've wanted you to survive."
Hermione shook her head as she buried her head into her mother's shoulder. She knew that Harry was forgiving, but would he actually forgive her for falling in love with Voldemort?
Yes. Yes, he would, and that was why she felt even more guilty.
"Who … who was it who'd wanted … who'd killed Harry?" Jean asked cautiously.
Lord Voldemort.
The words hitched in Hermione's throat, and she clung onto Jean in silence.
"Is it that dark wizard you were afraid of catching us?" Jean inquired.
Hermione exhaled the breath she didn't know she had been holding and nodded, glad that she didn't have to answer the question out loud.
Jean held on to her, patting her on the shoulder and back while muttering meaningless, comforting words.
"Sweetie?" Jean pulled away and looked at Hermione in the eye. "I know you're suffering from their deaths, and I don't know what happened for the last seven years, but if I know anything, it's that Harry, Ron, and the Weasleys would want you to live happily. I've seen how much they've cared about you."
"Mum … I …" Hermione said softly as tears fell again and she shook her head. "You don't know what happened—"
"I don't," Jean admitted. "But I know my daughter, and my daughter is not a person who would hurt her friends intentionally."
"Mum …" Hermione blubbered. "I …" She closed her eyes and bit down hard on the inside of her cheek before she finally blurted it out. "I fell in love with him."
Jean stilled, staring at Hermione for what seemed like forever before she asked, "The dark wizard?"
With much difficulty, Hermione nodded.
Jean remained silent for a while, and then, she sighed deeply. "Sweetie, it's not a crime to fall in love with someone."
"But I knew who he is, Mum. I knew what he had done and what he will do, but I … How could I have fallen in love with someone like him? Mum, is there something wrong with me?"
"Now you're just being silly," Jean chided gently as she brushed away the tears. "We're humans. We're not gods or goddesses, dear. We can't choose who we fall in love with."
"But I should've fought it …"
"Nonsense. Do you think that love is an entrée that we order in a restaurant? We don't like it so please refund it or change it? Life doesn't work like that, sweetie. Love doesn't work like that," Jean told her. "Love is unpredictable and often hits us as the strangest moments."
Hermione quieted down, not knowing how to answer.
"You're blaming yourself for too many things, Hermione. Should you be sad that Harry and Ron died? Yes. But you shouldn't go as far as to blame yourself. You've done everything you could to prevent it, but sometimes, life doesn't work out the way we want it to," Jean said. "Should you stop loving a person who is not a very good man? It's not something you can control. As long as you keep a clear head and know what you are doing, I don't think you should let it cripple you and make you feel miserable."
The two of them remained silent, and Hermione mulled over her mother's words. After a while, she exhaled deeply.
Giving her mother a soft smile, she said, "Thanks, Mum."
Jean shook her head. "I just want you to be happy, sweetie. Please stop pressuring yourself so much."
"I'll try," Hermione replied, attempting to sound brave but failing miserably in her own honest opinion.
"I know you can do it," Jean whispered as she pulled Hermione into her embrace. "My little girl always achieves what she sets out to do."
And Hermione sincerely hoped that her mother was correct.
~-0-~
The fireworks display over Victoria Harbour in Hong Kong on the second day of the Chinese New Year had always been spectacular. Though Hermione and her parents had witnessed it on television for the past two years, they'd felt comfortable enough in the city to see it live this year.
Despite the crowdedness she found herself in made Hermione a bit disgruntled, the cheerful expressions on Hugo and Jean's faces made it worth it.
That was until she saw a familiar figure from the corner of her eye.
For a moment, her breath caught in her throat and her fingers wrapped themselves around her wand before she recalled that her features were—should be—still Charmed.
Not to mention the person in question wasn't even looking her way.
In all his blond, posh glory, Lucius Malfoy stood a few feet away from the crowd.
Though she was almost certain that he couldn't possibly know who she was, his presence worried her. Was he here on some kind of mission? Or was he here on vacation? He didn't seem like the kind of person who would stand there to watch fireworks.
"Mum, Dad. Stay here and don't follow me. I'll be right back," Hermione told them.
"What's the matter?" Hugo immediately asked.
Hermione shook her head. "It'll be quick, but go home immediately if I haven't returned yet after the fireworks display."
Not wanting to explain more, she casually stepped backwards and maneuvered around, until she was at the outer ring of the crowds. Nonetheless, she was still too far to hear what he was saying to the person with East Asian features standing next to him.
How she wished for a pair of the twins' Extendable Ears!
Suddenly, an idea came to her, and as casually as she could, she asked the person in broken Cantonese, "Excuse me, do you know where the nearest restroom is?"
After receiving directions, she quickly moved away from the crowd. When she was far away enough, she checked her surroundings before casting a Disillusionment Charm on herself.
Carefully, she maneuvered towards the two people standing some distance away from the crowd and almost cheered at her success in remaining undetected as she stopped right behind them within hearing distance.
"—not pleased. I've told you this already, Yue-xuan, and I'm under the impression that Rabastan had made it clear," Lucius said, his voice as condescending as always, as he shot the witch standing next to him a meaningful look.
"Our Prime Minister is, of course, not going to assist them. Rest assured, we are neutral in regards to what happens in Britain," the witch—Yue-xuan—replied.
"How … frustrating," Lucius scoffed. "I seem to recall that your Prime Minister had signed a treaty with us. 'Comrades in battle' was the precise wording. I can overlook the fact that the relationship between your Ministry and the Greek Ministry of Magic is friendly, for a lack of a better word, but this is not something I can ignore. It's not something that the Dark Lord will ignore."
Yue-xuan shifted in her position in discomfort before she spoke again, "I was not informed about it."
Lucius lowered his voice another notch and said, "That's not an excuse, Yue-xuan. The Dark Lord is not pleased."
Yue-xuan swallowed, the nervousness on her face obvious. "Our Ministry is not interested in ruining the friendship that we've spent so much time building. Please let the Dark Lord know that I will rectify this immediately."
The plea in Yue-xuan's eyes could be clearly seen from where Hermione was standing, and of course, Lucius received the message. Suddenly, something clicked in Hermione's mind.
Yue-xuan was a Death Eater, too.
Throughout the years that Hermione had lived in Hong Kong, she'd heard people call Voldemort different names, but never once had she heard them call him the "Dark Lord". As far as she knew, only Death Eaters used that term. That would explain why Yue-xuan was also so abnormally nervous to hear that Voldemort was dissatisfied with the situation; she was worried that she'd be in line for a Cruciatus session.
"I hope to hear pleasing news soon, Yue-xuan," Lucius said with a nod of his head just as the fireworks started decorating the night skies, accompanied by the oohs and ahs by the onlookers.
They remained silent as they watched the pyrotechnic show, and Hermione was momentarily left to her thoughts.
From their brief conversation, it seemed like Voldemort had his spies in the Chinese Ministry, too, but it appeared that Yue-xuan was either not that high in ranks or they had reasons to suspect her if she was prevented from knowing certain information.
Just when Hermione thought they weren't going to talk anymore, Lucius spoke up in a much lower voice, and Hermione had to move a bit closer to hear what they were saying..
"And the witch?"
"She's walking around with Charmed looks, but she doesn't know that she's being tracked."
Hermione felt as if a bucket full of ice had just fallen on top of her. She'd thought that she had been safe. She'd thought that nobody knew who she was, yet all this time, an unknown Death Eater had been keeping tabs on her.
By now, she was certain that she wouldn't meet up with her parents soon.
And I've told them to go home!
Her heart raced, knowing that their home was no longer safe. Pulling out her wand silently, she cast a spell in the general direction towards her parents. It would leave a message on their cell phone, telling them to go directly to the prearranged safe-house.
Ever since she had been on the run from Voldemort and the Death Eaters, she had been worried that their location might be compromised. Therefore, she had prepared a safe-house where her parents could hide in until Hermione had dealt with the possible dangers. Though her parents had objected to the plan at the beginning, they were left with no choice since they didn't know any magic and couldn't help if someone magically attacked them, not to mention the fact that Hermione couldn't in any way fully concentrate with them in possible danger.
"Do you know where she is located?" Lucius asked.
"That's confidential, Minister Malfoy," Yue-xuan replied with a mysterious smile.
Now Hermione was really confused. Why would that be confidential? She understood that Yue-xuan was playing the part of spy and had to pretend that she was loyal to the Chinese Ministry, but they wouldn't care about Hermione's safety, would they? If anything, they could tie her up and send her to Voldemort as a "gift of good will."
Nonetheless, Hermione knew that she and her parents were in the line of danger. If Yue-xuan and her lackeys were tracking her, it would be a matter of time before Voldemort came knocking on her door—scratch that, came blasting apart her apartment.
Resisting the urge to shiver, she watched as Yue-xuan shot Lucius a meaningful glance. He gave her a nearly imperceptible nod; that made Hermione even more worried.
"As … spectacular as this show is—" Here, Lucius's lips curved into a sneer. "—I much rather watch a night sky filled with Dark Marks. I take my leave on you, Yue-xuan, and please send my regards to your Prime Minister."
Yue-xuan gave him a brief nod before holding out her hand. A slight smirk appeared on Lucius's face as he extended his arm and held onto her hand and gave it a shake. Hermione narrowed her eyes, pretty certain that her instinct was correct and that Yue-xuan had handed Lucius something in that handshake.
Then, Lucius turned around and walked away. If Hermione hadn't jumped out of his way just in time, he would've bumped into her. Suddenly, he stopped, and the longer he stood there, the more nervous Hermione became, worried that he might've seen something off with her Disillusionment Charm or perhaps he'd felt something when she moved out of the way.
However, without a backward glance, he continued walking.
Hermione bit her lower lip, knowing that it would be dangerous to follow him now. He was obviously suspicious that there had been someone there, but he was pretending to be nonchalant in order for the person to follow him. However, she couldn't be sure what Yue-xuan had given Lucius. What if it was the address to her apartment? She doubted her parents could stand it if she had to look after them all the time from now on. Not to mention there were two of them and only one of her; she could only look after one of her parents at a time.
After a brief debate with herself, she cast a quick look back at her parents, making sure that their Charmed features were still in place before she squared her shoulders and took after Lucius. It shouldn't take that long.
~-0-~
A/N: Many thanks to Nerys for beta-ing the chapter and to those of you who've read and rated the story!
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Prisms of Darkness