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The Apprentice	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 62961 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note: I thank everyone for reading, rating and reviewing.

The Apprentice

Chapter Two

Ticktack, ticktack – the clock counted. Ticktack, ticktack – the sound was inevitably present in his mind. Ticktack – it chimed through the otherwise silent study. The book was unable to distract him fully, for the theory inside was mind-boggling flawed. Ticktack – he couldn't concentrate due to the sound, a reminiscence of time passing: cruelly, effortlessly, without mercy. Ticktack.

His wand flashed, seemingly out of nowhere. Without taking his eyes of the page, he whipped it towards the clock on the wall. 'Confringo!'

A loud blast and then … a delicious silence. No more reminders to his mortality, to aging. Subconsciously, he moved his wand back inside his robes and flipped another page.

'Temper, temper,' a familiar voice mocked in an admonishing tone.

Lord Voldemort closed his eyes and sighed in annoyance. Not him again. He definitely needed to find a way around that despicable problem that Keepers couldn't kill each other. Once he had done that, he would wipe them all out - the entire Council of Fourteen (currently, one member short, but always a sandwich short of a picnic in his book). If he had known in advance before joining it was such a disgustingly happy, democratically organised bunch of morons, he would have passed on the "honour" and given his seat to the next fool. But nooooo, he had to be curious. HA! If he didn't know better, he would have thought his Animagus form had a tail and could mate with the most irritatingly rule-obeying Gryffindor Head Girl he ever had the misfortune to be a Prefect under.

'Aren't you going to offer me a seat?' Gellert Grindelwald asked joyously, taking a porcelain figurine of the mantel above the hearth.

'It's not my seat to offer,' Voldemort responded crafty.

'Since when has that stopped you?' Gellert replied, while raising an intrigued eyebrow at the peacock feathers on the back of the figurine.

'What are you doing here?'

'I got bored in Nurmengard and thought I'd come check on the situation with the Mudblood.' He shook his head after taking one last bemused look at the figurine and placed it back.

'I really don't need any assistance from losers, Gellert. The Mudblood will be dealt with. She won't be in the running much longer.'

'Umm…,' Gellert mumbled contemplatively. 'I'd say you're underestimating the situation.'

'Thanks for the info; goodbye.' Lord Voldemort waved dismissively.

'It's imperative our side gets the upper hand again in the Council and this is the best opportunity there has been in centuries.'

'There is no our.'

'The dark, my man, the dark. We could finally gain the advantage. Think of all the things we could achieve.'

Lord Voldemort knew it would be painstakingly obvious to Grindelwald that he still was not seeing the necessity of a we in this equation. But he was pretty sure Gellert was using the term loosely himself too, so it didn't bother him in the least. He would be delighted to kick we (as in everybody else but me) out of the Council permanently, once he gained the power to do so.

'Too bad you picked a Malfoy as your candidate then,' Voldemort mocked. 'I'd say Li Mei has chosen a winner. So, the Council will remain balanced.'

'It wouldn't have been if you had even taken the slightest effort to find a worthy dark candidate,' Gellert hissed. 'My choices are extremely limited from inside the walls of Nurmengard.'

'Yes, because you spend so much time there,' Voldemort sneered.

'I can only go outside on Keeper business and you know that.'

'Then, it is most fortunate for you that you have so much Keeper business to attend to. It can easily be changed.'

'Is that a threat?'

'If you wish it to be, Gellert. Personally, I'd call it a promise. Besides, I have better things to do than scout the world for some other idiot who is deemed a genius because he pronounced a syllable of a spell correctly. All hail to join the Council if you can read the alphabet in the proper order.' His scolding laugh embedded the study.

Gellert Grindelwald narrowed his eyes in irritation. 'If you are not taking the powers seriously, you are-'

'Oh, I take the powers seriously; it's the people "protecting" them I see no reason to value,' Voldemort interrupted, snapping his book shut and rising from the chair. He walked to the shelves and lifted another book before he stalked back to his chair, sat down and continued to read like nobody was there in the first place.

'You are no fun,' Gellert sighed.

'Then, why don't you go and annoy your old buddy Albus?' Voldemort suggested.

'I already did – I made him a guide to Draco.'

Voldemort looked up from his book and smirked. 'Why, thank you, I'll be sure to use that.'

'Thought you might. Though I think Albus will see it coming a mile away. He is not a ministerial moron,' Gellert yawned.

'Tired? I thought Albus was … umm… more fun?'

'Oh definitely,' Gellert agreed immediately. 'You're boring. You know, this is the dark side – we're supposed to have fun and cookies; but all you do is read and look like … well, whatever it is you call that look.'

'Have you checked yourself in any mirrors lately?'

'I'm in prison, what's your excuse?'

Lord Voldemort lifted his head from the book with a smirk. 'I don't care. Good-looks are hardly important.'

'Right,' Gellert said disbelievingly. 'The excuse of ugly people. It's not what's on the outside but what's on the inside that matters,' he mocked. 'So, which Dark Glamour Curse backfired on your nose? And did you try to remove your pimples and made your skin colour morph into a ghost's twin instead? No-no, I know… you went for the Snow-White Perfect Skin Charm and mispronounced the uoyia in Lyiuoyia. It's been known to happen.' He roared even louder than before.

Lord Voldemort merely glanced condescendingly and tried to read on.

'Maybe you should let your apprentice research the matter for you,' Grindelwald jeered.

He snapped his book shut again. 'Do you have a good reason to still be here, Gellert?'

'I already said why I was here. I am concerned about this situation with the Granger girl. Albus has an excellent track record in picking candidates who make it to the end. Three of his protégés have become Keepers, which is more than any other Keeper has ever achieved. I do not want another one of his choices to soil our council and you are underestimating the gravity of this situation.'

'Gravity,' Voldemort snorted. 'I already told you there is no situation and it certainly has no gravity to it. The girl won't be coming back for assistance and she will fail this assignment fully.'

'You're supposed to guide her. The others will –'

'Do nothing,' Voldemort finished smugly. 'I have met the requirements of guide perfectly. I can't be held responsible for the ignorance of a little girl in missing the instructions I left behind so she could finish it.'

Gellert frowned, while picking up another preposterous statue. 'That sounds deliciously evil, do tell.'

'I left "The Reality of Magic" on the dresser next to her Portkey home,' Voldemort snickered. 'None of the others can complain I didn't give the girl the opportunity to acquire the required information.'

Gellert gasped. 'Are you crazy? You gave her that book? It contains everything!'

'Everything? Well, to the mentally incapacitated it may seem like everything,' Voldemort mused. 'But you're not listening. I didn't give her the book. It was just there in plain sight.'

'She left it behind?' Grindelwald grinned.

'Nobody dares to steal from Lord Voldemort.'

'Albus will be annoyed when he hears this. I am going to enjoy watching his face.'

'Glad to be of assistance. I take it your concerns are over now?'

It remained silent.

'What?' Voldemort mocked. 'Still under the delusion I can't take on a little girl?'

'I just can't help but wonder what Albus is plotting. You know he has to have an ulterior motive to stash this particular girl up with you as a guide.'

Voldemort snorted. 'Probably trying to protect her pitiful muggle life.'

'Maybe…,' Gellert said doubtfully. 'Still, I get the feeling I am missing something. Albus never is that obvious. And, of course, the others are going to complain you didn't instruct the girl to take the book.'

'Ah, but the troubles the apprentice finds on her path to the knowledge are for her to solve,' Voldemort quoted the manifest, mockingly. 'I suppose that means my little barrier to the knowledge was for her to solve, which she wouldn't have.'

'Wouldn't have?' Gellert raised his eyebrows. 'Didn't you check?'

A pair of red eyes glanced over the book, amused. 'She was frightened out of her wit. Do you really think the little Gryffindor would risk my wrath and steal–?'

'Where is this dresser the book was on?' Gellert inquired before placing the bronze statue back with a disgusted wrinkle in his nose. 'Straight people,' he muttered, shivering.

'Down the hall. Second door on your right,' a totally uninterested voice said.

Grindelwald swirled out of the study. A couple of seconds later, loud laughter sounded through the manor. With a smug grin, Gellert returned, leaning his shoulder against the rim of the doorway. 'So, no one dares to steal from Lord Voldemort, eh? You know I am beginning to like the little Mudblood. I may even vote for her, next time.'

Lord Voldemort stared at his smug expression and flew to his feet. 'You're pulling my leg,' he muttered as he passed Grindelwald.

'Albus picked this one for a reason, Tom,' Gellert jeered.

Lord Voldemort froze in front of the already opened door to the guest room. His hand grabbed the door, and with an irritated move, he rammed it shut.

'Yes, I am definitely liking this girl,' Gellert grinned.

Voldemort paced past him. 'What are you grinning about? It's not like Potter's girlfriend will understand the first thing about the text in that book – nobody has, not without help anyway.' And a vicious smile graced his snakelike features.

'Umm… she had a perfect score so far. Not many have achieved that feat before her beside you.'

Suddenly, Grindelwald felt it prudent to leave the Dark Lord's vicinity quickly. After all, he was still lacking a wand, and although he didn't really need it – he wasn't looking forward to duel someone who had one and had the capabilities to actually do some serious damage.

A fragment of a second after his soundless disappearance from the scene, serious damage was inflicted on the wall behind his previous position. The knuckles of Voldemort's wand-hand had turned white and he took a couple of deep breaths to regain control over his temper. Grindelwald's last remark had struck a real nerve.

'Albus Dumbledore,' he snarled to the empty room. Albus Dumbledore and his games.

With a flick of his wand, a parchment appeared in his hand. A parchment Dumbledore had found amusing to shove into his hand almost a year ago. Expressionless, he glared at the hole Hermione Granger had punched into the indestructible charmed list. There were thirteen of these ancient parchments, and now, two of them had a hole in it. He still remembered like it happened only yesterday. It was during his fourth year at Hogwarts. After sneaking off, he sat in some ghastly stinking hole being drilled by morons about idiotic subjects that had no relevance whatsoever to anything magically important. It was when he recognised the insipid voice of his Transfiguration Professor.

'Only a seriously prohibited Dark Arts Curse could punch a hole in protected parchment as this, Mr. Riddle. Care to explain how someone your age has not only the knowledge to such a spell but also the lacking morals to use them?'

He had felt like smashing his head on the nearby table or better yet, smashing Dumbledore's head against it – hard. But he had his spotless reputation to uphold, so he had to file it on his things-I-would-want-for-Christmas list.

'I wasn't aware mere Cleansing Charms are considered Dark Arts these days,' Tom had responded smoothly.

'A mere Cleansing Charm cannot achieve this feat. Not a single soul in history has been able to damage this document.'

Tom had shrugged carelessly. 'Perhaps it was the last straw then?'

'Perhaps…,' Dumbledore had repeated before another robed figure began boosting about the magical prowess needed to achieve the hole.

It had strengthened his resolve to stay, knowing Dumbledore didn't want him there. Even though he had felt like leaving instantaneously upon recognising the obnoxious man, no matter how curious he was to what these Keepers of whatever were holding secretly. Having to listen to Dumbledore in class was more than enough to fry every single one of his brain-cells in a torturous slow pace, thank you very much. He didn't see any reason to expand on that experience, unless he wanted to start a candy-shop, which he had no ambition to do so. However, the experience of seeing Dumbledore lose was always a pleasurable one, so he had stayed and made sure – by all means at his disposal – he was the last man standing. It hadn't been hard. The word competition was laughable; past, present and future. And no stinking Mudblood was going to mirror his impeccable performance.

Swiftly, Lord Voldemort summoned an owl and started writing. When he was done with his letter, he closed the envelope with a wave of his wand. Satisfied, he grinned at the innocently appearing "Hermione Jean Granger". The girl would regret thwarting him, severely. After that was done, he glanced around the room – he didn't feel like reading anymore. Perhaps he could torment the Malfoys some more? Maybe Nagini would enjoy a nice peacock? But it was no fun without Lucius there; he didn't think Narcissa cared much about the birds. Still, he wasn't bailing the morons out this time. If they were unable to leave without the Dementors there, they could rot in Azkaban for all he cared – which was extremely little in case you were wondering.

A whole year wasted. He could have just walked into the Ministry of Magic himself straight away, but he had thought it prudent to keep a low profile, to rebuild his forces in secret. It had worked splendidly, until he saw through Potter's mind they were blowing it. He knew when he went, it was a mistake to go. Fudge would have stayed in denial about his return forever without seeing the very proof of his existence. But his temper got the better of him; he felt like cursing some of his insipid followers into oblivion. Six bleeding teenagers and they couldn't obtain one tiny orb without smashing it to pieces.

Now, he had to find a way to get his hands on the fortune-teller herself. He had thought Umbridge was a godsend gift when she sacked Trelawney (he already had Hogwarts under such close surveillance he was sure the Seer wouldn't have got past them), but Dumbledore had made sure his precious teacher remained unreachable. If only Snape had an ounce of charm, he could have the Potions Master lure the broad far enough away from the Hogwarts wards without rising suspicions. Alas, the man was incapable of emanating anything but gloom and doom, and … the order did arrive far too fast at the ministry.

Thoughtfully, Lord Voldemort leaned back in his chair and tapped the table with his fingers. Still, the rat had not found anything out of the ordinary with Snape's behaviour, yet. Everything was always perfectly explainable.

He growled. Too perfectly.

What was the point of having someone spy on another when they found nothing? Useless, the lot of them, utterly useless. Perhaps Wormtail needed to be a bit more "motivated" to do his job properly?

Yesss, finally something to do.

And on that note, the Dark Lord disapparated.

xxx

The soft swoosh of fabric was all that alerted Albus Dumbledore to his presence, even though a lot of magic was involved in his transportation over there and into preventing others to bear witness to his presence. But his style of magic was profoundly known by its stealthy quality – impossible to detect until it was too late. People who knew him had always claimed him to be jubilant, cheerful and a rather loud and outgoing personality. His magic, on the other hand, was quite the opposite: dark, silent and lethal.

Drawing his attention away from the stack of papers on his desk, Dumbledore glanced over his half-moon spectacles and sighed. 'You are only allowed to leave Nurmengard on Keeper-related business, Gellert.'

'Then, this must be a Keeper-related visit,' Gellert Grindelwald responded joyously, picking up one of the whirling trinkets on Dumbledore's desk and examining it thoroughly.

'I am waiting…,' Dumbledore said, while turning over the parchment at the top of the pile inconspicuously.

'How is my protégé doing?'

'You didn't come here to ask about Draco Malfoy's progress on the assignment.'

'I didn't?' Gellert asked in faux amazement. 'I was sure I was. Oh well, if you don't want to tell me…' He shrugged and planted his behind on the desk casually.

'I don't.'

'Then, how is your protégé doing?'

'Ah, I knew you were here to ask about Hermione Granger.'

'Did you now? Well, I suppose I am a bit easy to read these days. So, tell me, is the little Mu-' he halted when he saw Dumbledore's eyes darkening and changed his choice of words rapidly, '-girl happy with the guide you chose for her?'

Dumbledore folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. 'Gellert, don't you have some other place to be?'

'Nobody wants me around anymore,' Gellert said with a mock pout. 'I gotta say I was quite amazed – not nearly as much as He was though, but still amazed – when you chose Lord Voldemort to be her guide. Isn't she bosom-buddies with that boy wonder of yours? You know the one with the big red dot on his back, screaming my last breaths are numbered? What was his name again? Otter, Dotter, Nutter?'

'Potter,' Dumbledore said calmly. 'And yes, Hermione and Harry are best friends. But I fail to see why that should mean she shouldn't get the best Keeper to do her apprenticeship with. The Council is neutral after all, and Tom is the best choice for Hermione's capabilities – it's why I picked him.'

'Oh, you were keeping her best interests in mind - I never would have guessed,' Grindelwald jeered, clutching his hands and the silvery trinket in it to his chest.

'Do you mind,' Dumbledore said, nodding to the device in Gellert's hand, 'you're disrupting the alignment.'

'Sorry,' Gellert apologised, placing said item back on the desk and snatching the article at the top of Dumbledore's pile away. 'Horcruxes? Why, Albus, I'd never figured you as the man to turn desperate after reaching a certain age,' he grinned. 'Whatever happened to finding all the Hallows?'

'There is no trace anywhere of the Resurrection Stone,' Dumbledore said casually, while taking the article back from Gellert.

'The Resurrection Stone?' Gellert narrowed his eyes. 'You found the cloak!' he cheered enthusiastically.

'A long time ago,' Albus conceded.

'Amazing,' Gellert mused. 'So close.'

'And yet, so far away,' Dumbledore added, amused by the success of his diversion.

'So, what are you plotting here, Albus?'

Albus blinked. 'Pardon?'

'Come on, you know I love a good scheme, do tell.' Grindelwald rubbed in his hands, excited.

'I have a lot of work to catch up with. If you don't have any real business to inform me about, by all means feel free to leave.'

'Umph, you are no fun at all anymore.' Gellert jumped from the desk with an agility one wouldn't expect from the shaggy worn-out exterior he displayed. 'I'll go bother someone else.'

'You do that,' Dumbledore said, unruffled.

'It was about time you would figure it out though,' Gellert said, as he tapped with his index-finger on the Horcrux' article. 'Maybe I should go bother him? Yes, now there is someone who might be interested to theorise about your motives, too. Maybe Lord Voldemort can tell me what you're plotting.'

Dumbledore shook his head. 'You're reading too much into everything I do.'

'I daresay that is impossible,' Gellert laughed. 'You never told me how the M-Miss Granger felt about your choice.'

'She doesn't know it was mine to make.'

'I know, but shouldn't you tell her that before a certain someone else does.'

'She will understand my decision.'

'Will she now?'

'She is quite safe as his apprentice.'

Gellert snorted. 'Oh yes, not being able to get killed constitutes as safe in any dictionary. The ridiculous rule that a Keeper cannot kill…' He fell silent and his face brightened from the sheer illumination that was visibly travelling across his features. 'Wait a second! Umm, Albus, you wouldn't be under the delusion that… Oh no, not even you would be that-that…'

'That what?'

'That insane!'

'You see insane things all the time, Gellert. I can't say it is helpful to your credibility.'

'Do you really think she will get one Killing Curse of her wand without him noticing?'

Dumbledore glanced at him, considering. 'I have every confidence in Miss Granger's abilities to hold her own,' he responded slowly.

'By Merlin Albus, she is what again … sixteen?'

'And one of the most talented witches – besides you of course – I ever had the fortune to know.'

Gellert grimaced on the jest. 'Funny, for a moment I thought you were trying to get your favourite pupil of the hook by putting his best friend in the line of fire. But I should have known you'd value everyone with the same regard,' he sneered. 'I do wonder how Potter will feel when he figures out you placed her in danger to protect him.'

'Even if Harry was allowed to learn our secrets, there would be nothing to tell. As usual you're seeing ghosts, Gellert; Tom is the best choice for Hermione either way.'

'You thought about all the angles, didn't you?' Gellert stared impressed at his former friend. 'Darn, I wished you would have chosen my side,' he muttered. 'You belong there.'

'We'll see.'

Magic flew around them and just before Gellert left, he grinned. 'You do realise this could blow up in your face tremendously, my old friend.'

'Oh? Care to elaborate?'

'No, not particularly. Do guide my protégé well, I hate to be disappointed.'

'I'll do the best I can to make sure Draco Malfoy rises above the occasion,' Dumbledore said with a half smile and an amused twinkle.

Gellert was already gone before he had a chance to comment on the cryptic response.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh. 'Because I'll be damned before I allow Draco to stay trapped in his father's bad choices,' he added softly.
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The Apprentice