His White Queen: A Prequel | By : jsu1660n Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 18950 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Harry Potter, neither the characters from the books or movies. I receive no profit from this fanfiction. |
A/N: This chapter may be a bit disturbing and/or graphic in some areas.
Chapter 11
The Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament was steadily approaching, and Hermione had more than enough on her plate. On top of analyzing the egg’s message, come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground. An hour long you’ll have to look to recover what we took. Merpeople in the Black Lake obviously. The Champions would have to dive and search for whatever was taken from them. Sadly, there was not exactly a wide breadth of charms enabling wizards to breathe underwater for an hour.
Of course, that was only a scratch on the surface of Hermione’s problems. After having amazing sex with Cedric for the first time, Harry dragged her away from him and led her to a naked and body bound Cho Chang. Harry explained to Hermione that at some point during their activities, the Dark Lord had come through his mind and spoke.
It took twenty minutes for Hermione to convince Harry not to go to the headmaster with it. Then another thirty for him to agree to let her modify Cho’s memory of the event. It was easy enough to do, but Harry was not as stupid as Snape made him out to be. He immediately deduced that the Hufflepuff in question was Cedric, which led the subject of the Dark Lord’s Queen back to Hermione.
Against her better judgment, she agreed that they should have a sit-down with a mutual friend and discuss it rationally before Harry allowed his desire to protect Hermione incite a wave of panic within the castle walls.
Hermione glanced over at Harry who sat tensely to her right. They were in the professor’s office, sipping tea, but it was ineffectual in soothing their nerves. She took a quick glance in his mind while Moody considered all that he had learned.
They agreed to meet in the newly found Room of Requirement. It would seem suspicious if she went to Gryffindor or him to Ravenclaw. Sure, he could always use his cloak, but it was just easier this way. But Harry could care less where they met. Tonight was the night. He just felt it. And Cho looked so beautiful in her gown. She was really more than he thought he deserved. She was beautiful, intelligent, and loyal. She didn’t ostracize him for being selected as a Champion and she never wore one of those badges. In many ways, she was just like Hermione.
But as she smiled at him, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders, all thoughts of Hermione vanished from his mind. He loved her hair. It was so dark, just like her eyes.
“Unzip me?” she whispered, timidly.
With trembling hands, Harry unzipped the dress. His eyes widened at every inch of skin he had exposed. She was still holding her hair up and his eyes seemed to zero in on the juncture between her neck and shoulders. He held her by her waist and kissed her there. She shivered and pressed her body back into him. She started to ground herself against his erection.
They had seen each other naked countless times since they became friendly, but Harry still felt that rush of anticipation when her dress fell around her feet. She turned around in a slow circle giving him a full view of her red colored see-through bra and thong. She was beautiful. There were no other words to describe her.
He shrugged off his dress robes, letting his eyes rake over her body. Harry had not felt such an attraction for a female since the first time he gazed at Dudley’s 1990 poster of Mariah Carey.
“Get your pants off, Harry,” she urged, rubbing her thighs together.
He smirked at her obvious excitement. The room provided them with a large bed, a fireplace, and a bathroom. Cho jumped on the bed and stood up on her hands and knees watching his every move. Harry could not undress fast enough. He should have paid closer attention to the banishing charm Hermione tried to teach him. Cho giggled as he fell back on the floor while trying to take off his shoes and socks.
“Almost there, hold on.”
“Maybe this will give you an incentive.”
She unhooked her bra and tossed it towards him. Some guys would say that Cho’s breasts were small. But he thought they were just right. They fit into the palms of his hands as if they were made specifically for him. Her nipples were dark and always hard. His erection felt almost painful as she held his gaze and sucked her own nipple. He practically drooled at the sight.
Harry had finally removed all of his clothing. He liked Cho so much that he was no longer nervous or embarrassed about being naked around her. If she wasn’t still with Cedric, he could admit to himself that he was starting to love her. But she was still with Cedric and admitting that he was falling in love with a girl who had already given her heart to another was too painful. Even the few times that he did manage enough courage to ask her if she would ever leave Cedric for him, she always responds by saying that their relationship had not yet run its course.
“What’s wrong?” Cho pulled him from his depressing thoughts just as he lost his erection.
“Uh, sorry. Got distracted.”
“Oh, really?” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “Well, we can’t have that.”
She pulled Harry onto the bed with her. She pushed him on his back and slowly pulled off her thong, knowing that he was watching her. She kept her hair trimmed neatly, another thing Harry really liked about her. He couldn’t explain it, but seeing hair down there on a woman did things to him.
“That’s more like it,” she said, climbing onto the bed. He stood at full attention, twitching slightly as he felt Cho’s breath against his skin.
He groaned at the feel of her hot wet mouth encasing him, taking him inch by inch until her nose touched his base. He leaned on his elbows watching her work for him. She held his gaze, moaning around him. The vibrations went straight to his balls.
“If you keep that up…,” he warned, breathlessly.
Cho took the hint and lay beside him. “You can always return the favor.”
They swapped places and Harry placed Cho’s legs over his shoulders. He started to salivate at the sight and scent of her arousal. He loved the sounds of her moaning his name, the feel of her fingers in his hair and the way she pulled it when he pleased her just right. He feasted between her thighs, lapping up every single drop of her honey.
“Do it, Harry,” she panted. “Make love to me.”
Silently, he thanked all four of the school founders and Merlin himself. He quickly Accio’d his wand and performed the cleansing and breath freshener charms he learned from the twins. He wanted to kiss her and he had too much respect for her to do it with her essence all over his face. He concentrated hard and cast a contraceptive charm, hoping that he didn’t botch it.
He readjusted his position and looked into her dark eyes. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
It took about a minute and a half of nervous fumbling before he slowly sheathed himself inside of her. She was warm, wet and so soft. She gripped him intensely. He forced himself to hold still and rein in his excitement before he did something completely mortifying.
But while he waited, something occurred to him. Harry was by far no expert on sex, but he knew enough to know that there should have been something. Some type of resistance. She should feel some pain…if it were truly her first time.
A single tear fell from his eye. But he couldn’t tell if it was happiness from being one with the girl he adored or a deep sadness of knowing that what he only wished to give to her, she had already given to someone else.
“It’s okay,” she soothed, wiping away his tear. “Here and now I am yours, Harry.”
It wasn’t what he hoped to hear her say, but in that moment he would accept the situation for what it was and remember that in that room, in that point in time, no else but them existed. Cho wrapped her legs around his waist and he was able to go even deeper inside her.
“Oh, god, right there, right there!”
Without realizing it, Harry had sat up and grabbed Cho’s legs. He spread her open wide and pounded hard and fast inside her, her panting moans spurring him on. Sweat poured from his skin. He suddenly felt hot all over. The peace and happiness he felt from making love to Cho had gone away. In its place was a fierce urge to claim his Queen. He needed to fuck her until she saw no other man but him.
“Harry.”
He wanted to see his seed drip down her thighs and cover her porcelain skin. He needed to see her gray eyes fill with pain while her lips moved to beg for more.
“Harry, you’re hurting me.”
Who the hell did he think he was? Touching his Queen. Bringing her pleasure. Forcing her to scream out his name in the throes of passion. Filling her with his seed!
“Harry, stop!” she cried.
A part of Harry was conscious to Cho’s crying and pushing at his chest. But another part, the evil part grabbed her wrists and pinned her down to the bed.
“I thought you wanted this, Cho,” he sneered, thrusting harshly. “You wanted me to fuck you because your lover finds my Queen more appealing than you.”
“Oww! Harry, please it hurts!”
Her nails dug into his chest, leaving behind long bloody scratches. A barking laugh was his response. It was high and cruel. Her feeble attempts to hurt him were beyond pathetic. Sweet Salazar, the standards of the House of Ravenclaw had significantly diminished during this generation!
He gave one final hard thrust and withdrew from the sobbing girl, expelling himself on her stomach. She curled into herself, sobbing into her hands, but he paid no heed to her distress. For he was no longer Harry. His eyes tinged red and his magic crackled dangerously around the room. His Queen was kissing the boy now. Kissing her as if she were kissing him!
His mouth opened and a rasping vow came forth, further frightening the broken girl before him. “The Hufflepuff will pay with his life for defiling my Queen!”
Hermione withdrew from Harry’s mind as he gnawed anxiously on his nails. He was upset and embarrassed after he had to relay it all back to their professor. Any other time, Hermione would have felt remorse for intruding on such a private memory without Harry’s permission, but she was entirely too preoccupied with her own issues to care. She glanced at Moody and flinched. He had been staring at her the entire time. She was starting to think that Moody knew more about her than he let on.
“And what of the Chang girl?” Moody questioned, looking from Harry to Hermione.
Harry winced and glanced over at Hermione. “She is neutralized,” she answered.
Moody raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Good work. From what you two have told me, this connection between Potter and the Dark Lord is of vital importance. As it stands, he has no knowledge of such a connection. Even in his weakened state, he would have taken measures to prevent just this type of thing from occurring.”
“That’s all well and good, professor, but what about Hermione?” Harry questioned impatiently.
“What about her?”
“Why did he call her his Queen? Why does he think she is his?”
“Why do you think she is his?” he countered.
“I don’t think I understand, sir.”
“Potter, none of what you have said proves to me that the Hufflepuff he was referring to was Mr. Diggory. It doesn’t prove that this so-called Queen is Miss Granger either.”
“But –.”
“I have made it my life’s work studying the wizard, Potter. And I know of no such woman in the Dark Lord’s life. Other than Bellatrix Lestrange, of course.”
Moody suppressed a smirk as Hermione narrowed her eyes at the mention of the other woman’s name. “I highly doubt that Mrs. Lestrange was ever considered Queen amongst the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, professor,” she said coldly.
“I am inclined to agree with you, Miss Granger,” he laughed.
His laugh made her smile a little. She was actually jealous of one of the Dark Lord’s best Death Eaters! She started to feel a little silly.
“Then if he didn’t mean Cedric, who else could he have been talking about?”
“I honestly don’t know. The Dark Lord’s mind is like a treasure-trove. Even I had trouble keeping up with all of the discoveries.”
“But don’t you think we should tell someone that other students are at risk from him, professor?” Harry pressed.
“And what good will it do? Someone makes an announcement like that without any proof other than your word and it will be chaos!”
“There are even more pressing matters than the Dark Lord’s love life, Harry,” Hermione broke in. “We still have no way of determining what tactic you will use when you dive or what object will be taken from you. I’m torn between your cloak, your broom, or Hedwig.”
Harry looked positively stricken at the thought of having those three things taken from him. “Oh, I wager it will be something a bit more personal than those items you named, Miss Granger. What devices have the other Champions employed?”
“Krum found a way to transfigure his head into that of a shark’s –.”
“Fitting,” Moody said, rolling his good eye.
“And Cedric and Fleur are going to use the bubblehead charms.”
“Well, why can’t you do that? Miss Granger could surely teach you.”
“You flatter me, professor, but Harry here has it in his mind that he wants to do something bigger than that. Something that has not been done before. Sadly, he has yet to discover what that something is,” Hermione said, feeling more relaxed since Moody assuaged Harry’s fears about the Dark Lord.
“Hmm, well, if memory serves me,” he began thoughtfully. “There are some plants that can assist you with your plans.”
“Plants, professor?”
“Don’t look so skeptical, Potter. There are plants underwater, aren’t there? Plants are used in potions all the time.”
“And plants did un-petrify me back in second year, Harry.”
“Okay, okay. If plants are the way to go, where should we start?”
“Well, I could go research in the library and you could ask Neville about the books he borrowed from Professor Moody.”
“Sounds like a plan. You know, it’s too bad that we never got the chance to finish those duels.”
“Politics. That’s all it’s about these days,” Moody remarked, sounding just as disappointed as Harry did.
“Why? Are you so eager to battle me?” she teased.
“Not after what you did to Malfoy.”
“He did it to himself,” she shrugged.
“I guess that’s it then. Professor, if I see something else, what should I do?”
“You come straight to me. Normally, I would advise you to go to the headmaster with something like this, but he has enough on his plate as it is,” he said, making Harry feel as though he was a burden without really saying it.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I’m going to go ahead and go. I promised Ron we would fly before dinner.”
“Sorry for you, then. I need to talk to the professor about something. That is, if you have the time?” she said, knowing he did.
“I do.”
“See you later then.”
When he was gone, Hermione sat in her seat wringing her hands. “I don’t know where to begin, professor.”
“You can start with why the Dark Lord thinks that you are his Queen.”
She met his gaze astounded. “But you just said –.”
“Can you imagine what might happen to your friend if I acknowledged that he was right?”
“I don’t know why he would think that.”
“Codswallop!” he exclaimed. “There is no one else you can trust with this, Miss Granger. If the other professors had any indication that you were in some way linked to the Dark Lord, they would put you away faster than you can say Traitor to the Light! And if you think Dumbledore would lend a hand to save you just because you were one of his favorite students, well, look how well that worked out for poor Sirius Black.”
Angry tears filled Hermione’s eyes. “Don’t you think I know that?” she stood up and started pacing. “Do you have any idea what I felt when I woke up this morning? I felt anger. I was so angry I just wanted to torture the first person in sight. And the pain!” she screamed, falling to her knees. “It hurts so much! It feels like I’m bleeding inside. Like…like the only person I will ever love, the only person I have left in the world has betrayed me.”
“Miss Granger.”
“It hurts, professor!” she screamed, tugging at her hair.
“Miss Granger.”
“I can’t take it anymore. Make it stop!”
“Hermione!” Moody said, shaking her. He kneeled before her, his good eye bathed in tears. “You know why you feel this way. You know why you’re in pain.”
“It’s not real,” she denied.
“But what if it is?”
“It’s not!”
“But what if it is?” he said, shaking her slightly. “What if the Dark Lord were just a regular man? How would you fix this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do! Even if it were a mistake, the Dark Lord sees something in you. He wants you and last night you as good as signed the Diggory boy’s death warrant. If you could talk to the Dark Lord right now, what would you say?”
“I don’t know,” she sniffled.
“Try. Close your eyes.”
She closed her eyes as he instructed. She could feel the professor moving away from her and the sudden burst of magic fill the room.
“Professor?” she whispered.
She could sense something in the room, but it wasn’t the professor. She opened her eyes and gasped. The room was bathed in darkness. Hermione flicked her wrist, summoning her wand. She tried a Lumos, but it didn’t work. She felt a chill in the air. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She slowly backed towards the door. But the door was gone. There was nothing around her but darkness. And that was when she saw them. The blood red eyes shining brightly. Drawing her in, holding her to that spot. She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. But when she opened them again the eyes were still there.
“Closing your eyes won’t make me go away, Hermione.”
She shivered. He sounded nothing like his portrait at the manor or even as he did in her dreams. His voice was a pitiful rasp that somehow made her feel even worse than she already did.
“This – this isn’t real,” she said, pinching herself hard. “This is just a dream. A hallucination. It’s not real.”
“What we tell ourselves when confronted with our greatest fears. Am I your greatest fear, Hermione? Is it losing yourself to the madness that is your own mind? Or could it be your Hufflepuff meeting his end at the hands of a pretty green light?”
An image of Cedric’s broken, lifeless body flashed before her eyes. He lay in the grass, barely visible as the late night’s fog covered him. His once bright eyes were dull. They were etched with horrors that spoke of untold pain.
“No! Please, don’t.”
“No?” he rasped. His red eyes narrowed, but never blinked. “Does he mean so much to you?”
“Yes – I mean…he doesn’t know about what’s going on. He’s innocent.”
“And are you so innocent?”
Tears ran freely from Hermione’s eyes. What could she say? How could she fix this? Cedric’s death was not an option. He did not deserve to die because she had been dishonest.
“I’m sorry I hurt you. I could never want to hurt you.” He didn’t respond and Hermione took it as a sign to continue. “I feel it, too. I feel what you feel. I feel the murderous rage and consuming pain. I don’t know why I feel it, but I do, and I am so sorry. But what happened last night is all on me. Blame me. Punish me. Not him.”
The unblinking red eyes seemed to see through her. Hermione had hoped that Meira would chime in with her usual intrusiveness, but now she was silent. She had submissively bowed to his will.
“You are fortunate, my dear. You are…confused. Doubting yourself. Doubting the little voice whispering in your ear.”
“How did you –?”
“And in the days to come, you will see exactly how much your proclaimed loved ones actually care for you. For those reasons alone, your little Hufflepuff shall live another day. But make no mistake, Hermione…” he whispered her name.
He was close to her now. She could feel the chill of his presence like the freeze emanating from ice. She felt something touch her face. It was a hand, but it seemed deformed. It felt like skin stretched over bones. The hand seemed frail, but the grip was strong enough to hold her in place.
“If you touch another man again, you will watch me kill him. Do you understand me?”
She didn’t doubt him for a second. He was the Dark Lord. Cedric or any other man foolish enough to touch her was as good as dead.
“Yes,” she whispered.
She blinked once and the hand was gone. The room suddenly brightened and the presence was gone. He was like a devil masked by the shadows and gone with the emergence of the light. She found Moody sitting at his desk, sipping his tea without a care in the world.
“Miss Granger,” he nodded.
She dried her tears and sheathed her wand. “Professor.”
Hermione and Moody didn’t discuss what did and didn’t transpire inside his office. Even Meira seemed to avoid the subject altogether. They all had a mutual understanding.
~…*…~
The day before the Second Task should have been one filled with nervous excitement. What with the discovery of Rita Skeeter’s body and the DMLE coming up with no leads or evidence. She should have been over the moon. But between the Dark Lord’s threats, Harry unintentionally assaulting Cho, and attempting to keep Cedric alive, i.e., out of her pants, Hermione rarely smiled these days. Her moods were black and her darkened expression promised misery for any who crossed her path. In classes, she no longer did more than what was required and had actually reached the status of a regular student.
Severing all ties with Cedric was much harder than she thought. Every time she decided she would end things they would end up together one pair of fallen knickers away from shagging. Something had changed drastically in the course of her “hallucination” in Moody’s office. She could feel the Dark Lord’s presence as if he was walking beside her. It was frightening. She started to wonder if that was how Harry felt all the time. Even worse, Meira seemed to have abandoned her. She had been a part of her for so long and now it all stopped. The dreams, her voice, it was all gone. She had never felt so alone.
She blinked and closed 100 Different Uses for Aquatic Plants. For the past twenty minutes, she had read and reread the same paragraph. Harry did not seem to be fairing any better. He was even more downtrodden than she was. He rarely spoke to anyone besides her. He treated Snape as though he were a worrisome gnat and refused to rise to any of his baiting, much to the surly professor’s displeasure. He had his head down on the table staring listlessly at the pages of the book he was supposed to be reading.
“Harry? Are you alright?”
“Fantastic,” he answered without lifting his eyes to look at her.
“How are things with you and Cho?” she whispered.
“Oh, you mean since I raped her and got your help to cover it up? Everything’s just a walk in the park for us.”
“Harry, for god’s sake!” she scolded, quickly casting a Muffliatio. “Someone could have heard you! You can’t just go around saying things like that.”
“Why not? That’s exactly what happened.”
“Harry, you didn’t –.”
“It was rape, Hermione,” he declared. His fiery green eyes almost burned her. “You weren’t there. You didn’t …you didn’t see the way she looked at me. And please don’t try to make excuses for me. It makes me sick to my stomach to hear it.”
Her heart went out to her friend. The first time he loses his virginity, he inadvertently channels his mortal enemy.
“I can’t even look her in the eye. She keeps asking me what’s wrong. She thinks she wasn’t good or some other rubbish.”
“I know what you mean. I’ve been trying to distance myself from Cedric. Even if Moody is right, I don’t want to take any chances, you know? But of course, he’s not making it easy on me.”
“Do you love him?” he asked after a heartbeat’s silence.
“I suppose so. In a way. We have fun together and I couldn’t stand it if something happened to him. But I am not in love with him. I don’t want to spend my life with him or call him my husband. We just have an understanding.”
“I envy you.”
“Don’t.”
“No, I really do. You’ve got it all figured out.”
“Hardly.”
“Me? I will probably end up married to Ginny with three or four kids named after my parents,” he sighed.
“You make it sound so horrible. And there is nothing to say that you won’t end up with Cho.”
“I won’t. Not after what’s happened. He made sure of that without even trying.”
Hermione reached across the table and clutched her friend’s hands. “You will be happy, Harry. You deserve to have a wonderful, loving and devoted wife to give you the family you should have had. You deserve nothing, but love and a long, peaceful life. You don’t deserve anything less than that.”
“But you won’t have that life. Not if he has anything to say about that.”
Hermione leaned back in her chair, fighting the urge to delve inside her friend’s mind. She knew that he knew more than what he had said. He had seen more than what he said. Did he know why the Dark Lord seemed to be so obsessed with her? Did he know about Meira?
“Hey, you two,” Ron said, for once in his life arriving at the right moment.
“Hey,” they greeted.
“What is wrong with you two? You have been moping around the school for weeks. Don’t tell me you two are on the outs with Cho and Cedric?”
He tried to come across as sympathetic, but all Hermione could hear was the smugness of his unspoken ‘I told you so.’
“Have you had any better luck than we have?” Harry asked, refusing to address him comment.
“Well, actually, I was a little preoccupied.” They exchanged a look knowing he meant Lavender, but Hermione was far from upset. Lavender was doing her job (although she complained constantly about how dumb he was and how he still obsessed over her) and because of it, Hermione had many “Ron Free” days. “But you will both be happy to know that Neville has found something and he’s waiting for you in the Common Room, Harry.”
“What did he –?”
Moody came out of the corner, seemingly stepping out of the shadows themselves. “Sorry to interrupt, but you and you, come with me,” he said pointing to Hermione and Ron. Harry started to stand until Moody shook his head. “Not you, Potter. Just them.”
Hermione stood without a fuss, but of course, Ron had to argue. “But professor, Harry needs us.”
“Potter will be fine from here out. Don’t make me body bind you, boy.”
“Unnecessary, professor. Let’s go, Ron. We’ll see you later, Harry.”
“Yeah, bye,” Ron said, following Hermione closely.
The three made the trek to McGonagall’s office in silence. Hermione had a feeling that this had something to do with the Second Task. She only hoped that if she were right, Ron would not start to panic.
“Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, please have a seat,” McGonagall said, looking over her glasses at them. Once they were seated, McGonagall went straight to the point. “You two are wondering why you are here, surely?”
“It’s about the Second Task. We are what the Champions will have to recover,” she answered.
“What?” Ron paled. “How are we supposed to breathe underwater?”
“You will be asleep, Mr. Weasley.”
“Asleep? Underwater?” he exclaimed, toppling his chair over.
“Honestly, Ronald,” Hermione said, feeling her temper rise. “Are you a wizard or not? Just because we found it difficult choosing methods for Harry to breathe underwater does not mean that the professors would put us at risk.”
The tension fell from Ron’s shoulders and he lowered his head, conceding to her arguments. He set the chair right and took his seat. He smiled bashfully at their head of house. “Sorry.”
“That’s fine, Mr. Weasley. As I was saying, you will be in an enchanted sleep. You will awaken the moment you break the surface.”
“Professor?”
“Yes, Miss Granger?”
“Which Champions are going to have to rescue us?”
The stern witch’s face softened as she looked over their heads at Moody. “I am sorry, Miss Granger,” she said, meeting her eyes with some difficulty. “We are not at liberty to say.”
She closed her eyes briefly. The doubt had begun to seep in and she vividly recalled the Dark Lord’s warning about her friends. “When will this happen?”
Moody limped over to McGonagall’s desk and fixed her with an even stare. “Right now.”
The last thing she saw was a bright light.
Hermione stood hidden in the shadows. She wore a white cloak with the hood pulled up. The room was filled with black cloaked and masked Death Eaters. The followers who did not bear the Dark Mark wore masks and red cloaks. There were over ninety supporters in attendance.
The Dark Lord sat on his throne. He casually twirled his wand between his fingers. His blood red gaze put fear in their hearts and Hermione loved it. Five minutes passed since they all Apparated into the room to find their lord already on his throne. Five minutes since Hermione initiated the anti-Disapparition and Portkey wards. Five minutes since the Dark Lord gazed at them in silence, increasing their nerves.
“My friends,” he began. His voice was a high hiss that sent a shiver through the crowd. “My family…my brothers. How long we have been together. In 1944, I had a vision. A vision in which I, with the assistance of my like-minded brethren, would change our world. No longer would we hide in the shadows, letting the Muggles believe that we were the makings of fairytales.” She could listen to the Dark Lord talk for hours. He was the type of man who commanded respect and attention just from the way he used words. “No longer would we fear being branded freaks and exterminated like vermin. But it was not enough to just want these things. We had to take them! This would not be simple. The Muggles steadily outnumber us. Our tactics have to be a bit…dark. And because of this our kind formed a resistance. The Order of the Phoenix. A ragtag group of wizards led by none other than Albus Dumbledore.”
Hermione was proud that their followers did not waver from the hateful hiss at the mention of Dumbledore’s name.
“They wish to stop us. They wish to protect their pet Muggles and would willingly sacrifice us all for the sake of their continued existence.” The Dark Lord stopped twirling his wand. “The reason that I am telling you all of this my brothers, is because one of you knows the meaning of sacrifice. One of you has betrayed us.”
The Dark Lord held out his hand and Hermione stepped from the shadows. She took his hand and watched their followers simultaneously take a knee and bow their heads.
“Two days ago,” he continued without giving permission to rise. “Albus Dumbledore came to my home and attempted to kidnap my wife. When she refused to leave with him, he cursed her. Albus Dumbledore murdered my son.”
Although it was a complete breach of protocol, the followers willingly met the Dark Lord’s gaze. Hermione squeezed the Dark Lord’s hand, the loss of their son was near crippling.
She could hear his frantic thoughts. Even as he kneeled with the others declaring loyalty, he was trying desperately to Disapparate. His Portkey to Hogwarts was inactive and Greyback and his Pack had blocked all of the exits growling menacingly.
Hermione shared his thoughts with the Dark Lord. He hoped that his suspicions were wrong, for Walburga’s sake. She slashed her wand and summoned a rope that shot through the crowd of followers and wound around his neck dragging him before the Dark Lord’s throne.
He lay before the throne gasping for air, struggling to remove the rope that only wound tighter with each pull. She banished his clothing leaving him naked. It was fitting. He came into the world naked he should die naked. The identity of the betrayer sent a wave of shock through their followers.
“How long?” she questioned, her wand pointed directly between his eyes. She wanted him to bleed as she bled. Cry as she cried. She wanted to kill him and then resurrect him just so she could do it all again.
“One year. He said he could get me Immunity and a job at Hogwarts.”
Hermione laughed as coldly as the Dark Lord frightening their followers. “My son’s life was worth Immunity and a job?”
“No, milady. I didn’t know! He didn’t say he would –.”
She flicked her wand again. He coughed and gagged, blood pouring from his mouth as his tongue fell against the floor with a wet slap. Something flashed before Hermione’s mind. Effortlessly, she weaved through the betrayer’s mind and found him holding Slytherin’s locket in his hand and replacing it with a replica. She glanced at the Dark Lord who was now shaking in unchained fury.
“I should have never given you my mark, Regulus.”
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, reveling in the betrayer’s screams as his Dark Mark began to melt along with the flesh of his forearm. It was a grotesque sight to see his hand and the rest of his arm intact with his radius and ulna bones uncovered.
Regulus looked up at Hermione with imploring eyes. His thoughts screamed, ‘think of my mother!’ She pushed her hood back. Her gray eyes glowed like her husband’s in her anger. She kneeled beside him, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. She gripped his chin in a bruising grasp.
“My heart goes out to your mother,” her whispered voice an echo around the silent room. “Two Blood Traitor sons. Taking your life would be a mercy to her.”
He mumbled, still trying to speak without a tongue. His blood spilled onto her hand and she found herself liking the Lady Macbeth comparison, but the momentary respite was not enough to keep her anger at bay. He believed that he was a victim of Dumbledore’s manipulations. He believed he was innocent!
“Nothing,” she smiled sweetly, a sign of her rage. “Nothing we do to you today will ever be enough of what you deserve.”
She pushed his head back on to the stone floor and stood at the Dark Lord’s side.
“But,” he said, stroking her hair to keep himself calm. “Just killing him would be a waste of a perfectly good vessel.”
Realization dawned in Regulus eyes as he looked to his former brothers for help. Hermione smirked. If they left it up to their followers, there would not be enough of Regulus left to utilize for later. Barty and Bella were barely restraining themselves as it was. They would be rewarded later.
“You are right, milord. But that doesn’t mean he can’t…bleed a little.”
She flicked her wand in a pattern familiar to the Dark Lord and an orange light encased Regulus’ body. He coughed and choked, even after the rope disappeared. He clutched his throat as blood and dark matter spilled from his throat. The Dark Lord’s arms locked around her comfortingly as they watched Regulus pull a twelve-foot long barbed wire from his mouth. Pieces of his organs and his intestines were caught on the barbs and sloshed against the large puddle of blood. He reached the end of the wire and pulled so hard his entire lower intestines came out through his mouth. He fell back in the puddle of blood eyes wide and mouth dripping blood. He was dead.
The Dark Lord swished his wand, cutting the runes into his skin and chanting in Latin. Regulus’ eyes became white and at the sound of his growls, Hermione spelled a muzzle on him to be safe. He slowly climbed to his feet the left side of his body hanging slack as he awaited instructions from his new master. He was now an Inferius. The Dark Lord ordered him to turn around and not move. The Inferius growled and frothed at the sight of its potential meal. So much flesh. Soft, warm flesh filled with blood.
The thoughts of the Inferius amused her. If only Dumbledore could see him now.
“Let this be a lesson to any of you who may have thoughts of betraying us.” He banished the Inferius to the cave with the others and dismissed his shaken followers. He Apparted them to the manor in Russia.
“It wasn’t enough,” she said, wrenching out of his grasp. She tore at the cloak until it was pieces on the floor. “It will never be enough.” She felt her magic surge within her as she entered the bathroom. She started the shower without even a wave of her hand, tapping into her mental magic. She banished her remaining clothing hoping that the Dark Lord would be gracious enough to give her space. But of course that was too much to ask for.
“You’re using too much magic.” He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, having removed his own cloak. He wore a disapproving frown and his eyes had not yet returned to normal.
“Can I have a little privacy?” she said, not caring that she was being rude.
“I’m sorry?” he said, in that eerily calm tone he used whenever he was about to torture someone.
Hermione snorted drunk on pent-up power and grief. “It’s not working this time, milord! But you know if you had put the fear of Slytherin in them like you are trying to do now, then maybe Regulus would not have betrayed us.”
“Are you blaming me?”
“Who else is to blame? I gave you everything! My love, my life, I gave you a part of my soul, Tom! And all I wanted was a family. You can keep yourself out of the ministry’s way, but you could not protect your own wife and unborn son? All hail Lord Voldemort!” she curtsied dramatically. She was naked and it would have been an amusing sight if they both were not so upset.
“You think that I wanted this? You think I enjoyed coming home and seeing my wife covered in blood not knowing if she was damaged?”
“How would I know anything? Merlin forbid I ever sneak a peek inside that Rubik’s cube that is your mind! I suppose Dumbledore is right. Are you going to leave me now, Tom? Going to go out and find another Pureblood witch that can actually bear you a son?”
“All these years later and you still cannot comprehend my feelings for you, you stupid woman.”
“How can I know your feelings when you never say anything? You have never told me you loved me, Tom.”
“Yes, because merging my soul with yours rather than continuing my plans was not enough of an indication. Marrying you when I knew Dumbledore would be on me worse than he already was is an obvious sign of my feelings for you! Perhaps he wasright. Perhaps I should have left you as Grindelwald’s whore.”
Grindelwald’s whore. Grindelwald’s whore. It was years since someone had dared to call her that. Hermione saw red. She lunged for the Dark Lord, hitting him wherever she could. He dodged her blows with no real effort and that pissed her off even more. She grabbed his shirt causing him to tumble to the floor taking her down with him. He turned over, pinning her beneath him.
“I bet you hate me, don’t you? Don’t you” he yelled.
She wanted to hold on to her anger. She wanted to hold on to her hatred, but all she could feel as she looked into the burning red eyes of the man she would dive in front of the Killing Curse for was remorse.
“I want him back,” she sobbed. “I just want our son back.”
He leaned down, kissing her tears away. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I failed you.”
She felt his cock grinding between her thighs. She tore open his shirt and wrapped her legs around his waist. She wanted it bad. Her body had opened for him. Even in their anger, his touch had her dripping wet.
“Please, please, please,” she begged pitifully as he sucked her nipples. She was seconds away from banishing his clothes when she felt him thrust inside of her. He was so big and hard. He took her mercilessly on the cold floor of the steamed bathroom. “Oh, god, yes!” she moaned feeling the familiar flutter in her belly all too soon. The more she tried to hold it off the stronger it felt. “Milord!” she screamed as she came, dragging him over the edge with her.
They lay tangled together after it was over. Gentle touches and whispered oaths passed between them. The only remaining chasm between them was gone. From there on out it would be the two of them and together, they would rule over their world or go out in a blaze of glory in their attempts.
He looked into her eyes and a calculating grin spread across his handsome face. “Open your eyes, Hermione. It’s time to wake up.”
Hermione gasped, opening her eyes. She could hear people cheering and chanting someone’s name. “KRUM! KRUM! KRUM! KRUM!” Krum? But that couldn’t be right. She wiggled out from under the strong arm that seemed almost welded to her waist. She swam towards the dock and hoisted herself up. Large blankets were thrown over her shoulders and she was assaulted by Krum’s fan club asking how it felt to be rescued by the greatest Quidditch player in the world. She rolled her eyes and threw the blankets off her. She summoned her wand and dried herself off.
“Well, well, it would seem as though you have made quite the impression on my boy, Miss Granger.”
She looked over her shoulder to see Karkaroff smirking at her. “I don’t understand this, headmaster. Viktor Krum has no reason to miss me.”
“Doesn’t he?”
“No,” she said flatly. “Aside from the help with the tasks, we have absolutely no interaction.”
“But when he was asked who he would miss the most from this castle he said you.”
He left her with her thoughts and congratulated his progeny. So Krum would miss her. That was disturbing. She looked around and found Cedric staring guiltily at her as his arm rested around Cho’s shoulders. Her hair was wet and she looked to be freezing. Her eyes fervidly scanned the water awaiting Harry’s resurface. Ron and Fleur’s little sister came up first, cementing Hermione’s thoughts. Moments later, Harry shot up on to the deck by use of the Ascendio charm. Once she was sure he was all right, Hermione did not stick around to hear the awarding of points.
She was angry. Humiliated. She had been by Harry’s side from the beginning. Believing in him and trusting him when no one else did, and the one person he would miss the most was Ronald Weasley? She couldn’t let herself think of Cedric. She had to get away. She was going to hurt someone if she didn’t.
Her mind kept drifting back to the dream. The last one was different. It was not like the others where she would watch Meira’s memories play out like a movie and experience the muted sensations with a distinct feeling of detachedness. In this one, Hermione was Meira. She felt what she felt and saw what she saw through her eyes. It was as if they were the same person.
She desperately wanted to talk to Meira, but she had gone AWOL. There was only one person she could talk to. Hermione quickly disillusioned herself and ran towards the gate of Hogwarts. She closed her eyes and Apparted to the Black Sea Manor.
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