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Mortal Souls	By : bloomsburry Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 14134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Harry Potter Universe. They all belong to J.K Rowling. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
Warnings: story contains; coarse language, violence (torture and murder), blood and gore, explicit lemons This is going to be a very DARK fic. It's really not suited for those who are gentle at heart and for minors.
Author's note: I want to apologize for the grammar mistakes. I'm using British English, so you might notice different spellings. Apart from that, I suck at tenses, so you might see a lot of mistakes in that area. I hope you will forgive me for that. I'm still not a good writer. I still need improvement. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please don't forget to leave me your feedback, especially now because I believe there are a lot of things happening in this chapter that might leave you confused. I'm also confuse with it...ahahaha...kidding
MUST KNOW
*words written in:
Italic - internal monologue
Bold - magical spells/ charms / curses
Bold and Italic - speaking in Parseltounge

Year 1952

Albania
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" were the words that repeated in Hermione's mind the instant she watched the man pulled out his wand and pointed at her, while his eyes glinted with malicious intent. And Hermione knew right then, that she was going to be at the receiving end of that wand, if she didn't do anything about the situation.
She opened her mouth, ready to explain, when she realized she didn't completely understand why she end up there in the first place. So instead, what came out was this:
"Err….Hi?"
There was an awkward pause…wherein, Hermione proceeded to mentally banged herself on the head at her poor choice of words.
She could almost hear the crickets in the background while the man stood there, completely stunned. Not quite sure what to make of her.
But she tried to rectify it immediately, by saying, "No, wait. I can ex-." But she wasn't able to finish as the man finally recovered from his stunned silence. With his wand still pointed at her, she could feel the magic gathering at the tip of his wand before a red light shot out towards her.
Being shot at while sitting down - and at a point blank range – put Hermione at a terrible disadvantage. She didn't have enough room to manoeuvre and escape the attack. Yet her body moved on its own sooner than she could even think.
The red light impacted on the carpeted floor; just a second after Hermione swiftly rolled out of the way, where she promptly collided against the coffee table. Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears as she lay there, shocked at the suddenness of the attack. She caught sight of the scorch mark on the carpeted floor, where she had been a moment ago, and was not surprised to see that it was smoking. Her wide gaze immediately snapped back to her attacker, who turned to her with his wand pointing with another shot ready.
This time, Hermione understood that the man had no intention of hearing her out first. To the man, she was a threat, and must be immobilized at once, before he could interrogate her for some answers. Hermione could understand his type of reasoning, but the thought of being at the mercy of this stranger, didn't set well with Hermione. Not at all. With that dark, menacing aura currently pressing against her, Hermione made her decision. Surrendering to him – which could mean being incapacitated and disarmed by him - was out of the question. However, she could always try to talk some sense into him IF she got the chance.
It was either that, or she fights back.
Hermione pick the latter as a yellow light sprouted from the man's wand and came rushing towards her. She didn't know if it was the adrenaline pumping in her veins, or she had somehow performed a wandless magic, after she had flipped and chucked the coffee table towards the oncoming shot like it weight nothing. That, or she was just imagining things. She wondered as she watched the table sailed with a surprising speed to block the yellow missile mid-way, where she knew ropes would instantly wrap around the furniture a second after.
But Hermione was already on the move before the scene played out. Her wand dropped into her hand from her wand holster while she launched herself to her feet. The man had been surprised by her unconventional use of the table that he failed to intercept Hermione from scrambling away. By the time the man rounded on her once again, she had already put a good distance between them, her wand drawn and aimed towards his chest.
Her attacker eyed her wand for a moment before sizing her up.
"You are quiet nimble for a witch," The dark-haired man remarked, his glacial blue eyes finally meeting her gaze after he completely finish his assessment. "And the touch of wandless magic was also unexpected…So, tell me. Are you.. perhaps..a trained assassin sent to kill me? Did Volkovich sent you here to finish his job?"
Hermione could only stare at him blankly. Not entirely understanding why the man suddenly thought that she was an assassin.
"Ha?.. Who? Wha-? Did I hear him correctly? Did he just ask me if I was there to assassinate him? Where did he even get that idea? And who, in merlin's beard, was he and this Volkovich person?" A bunch of questions went through Hermione's mind as she mulled over the man's statement. Judging from the man's words, he must have had a lot of enemies to start thinking in that way. Hermione knew that she could have easily been mistaken for a burglar - even with the unusual dress - but instead, he had instantly assumed that she was there to kill him.
Either he really had an enemy who wanted him dead, or he was just a paranoid man. Hermione surmised.
But that's not the only reason why Hermione's mind seemed to be firing-up a dozen thoughts at once. How would you convince someone who was obviously certain in their assumptions? Because there was no doubt that the man wouldn't believe her once Hermione told him the truth. No matter how much she would try to convince him otherwise.
Yet Hermione decided to try anyway. She concluded that it's better to resolve this situation peacefully, before it could escalate into further violence. The possibility of dodging potential attacks while running on her heels, was not an ideal scenario that Hermione wanted to happen.
"No, I'm not an assassin sent by this man you called Volkovich." Hermione said carefully as she unflinchingly looked into the man's cobalt-blue eyes. "I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I honestly ended up here by some kind of accident, and that's the truth. If I was here to assassinate you, you would have already been dead while you were still sleeping. And do you think a highly-trained assassin would have thought it practical to dress like this?" She gestured at her attire. The man's eyes followed where she indicated; his eyes lingered a few seconds longer than necessary.
Hermione inwardly bristled at that, but decided not say anything. Although, she found it a little odd that the man appraised her like he had never seen a woman dressed like her before - which was just ridiculous.
"So please put your wand down and let's talk." Hermione interrupted with a snap, which immediately drew the man's eyes back to hers. He looked angry at her tone.
Hermione ignored that look. "I know you are a reasonable man, and I would prefer that we can talk this out before someone seriously gets hurt."
"I don't believe you." The wizard said, his lips pursed in displeasure. "And who are you to order me around inside my cottage?" He demanded, glaring. "If you were smart, you could have told me better than that blatant lie you said to me just now. Because no one in their right mind would have actually believed in that utter nonsense. You said that you ended up in here because of some accident?" He asked, disbelief colouring his voice.
Hermione knew her explanation sounded so incredibly far-fetched even to her, but it was indeed the truth. The man just had to be open-minded to accept that, which he clearly wasn't.
"Don't take me for a fool." The man told her, his face set in a fierce glower. "Even a blind man could have sense that lie a mile away. Now, you better start telling me the truth, or suffer the consequence."
Fear crawled up Hermione's spine when she heard the promise of violence and blood in his voice. Her skin prickled as the air around them crackled with that familiar trace of raw, dark magic that she detected earlier.
She knew that the wizard was not making idle threats. And for this reason alone, Hermione had to choose her next words carefully. She reckoned that he would not take too kindly if she fabricated a lie. Her presence there was already suspicious enough to warrant a physical altercation between them.
Therefore, she should try to convince him in other means, such as the use of her memories and thoughts. Mentally, Hermione grimaced for even considering it as an option, but this was as good as any to prove that she was being honest. She just hoped that this wouldn't come back to bite her in the end.
"Look," She began, her throat feeling slightly dry. She had to swallow before continuing. "If you don't believe me, you can always try looking into my mind. You can see for yourself that I'm not lying."
Her suggestion sent her heart thumping erratically in her chest as she waited for the man to follow through with it; already imagining her mind being ripped apart by her potential attacker. Even though this didn't bode well for Hermione, she had to do it.
She half expected him to attack her mind with legillemens right then and there, but it seemed the man was too cautious to even try. A part of Hermione was a little disappointed that he didn't do it, while another part of her was vastly relieved that he didn't.
Legillimens could have solve her current dilemma if the man could just picked up her surface thoughts. She had already prepared some projected images for him to analyse - which could prove that she wasn't there for some nefarious purpose. This method could have certainly put the man's mind at ease. But he seemed to think differently, because the dark wizard remained motionless as he scrutinized her. His lack of action raised Hermione's guard up, she could almost read what the man was thinking as he continued to survey her with that cold, calculating look.
Hermione knew that look. She even had one herself. And every time she donned that mask, it was always when she was trying to decipher a complex puzzle, or a deep mystery that she found quiet challenging. The man was no different from her. To him, she was a puzzle; an unknown piece that he couldn't fit in any category; an unpredictable element that put him on high alert and second guessing his next move.
This she knew, because her mind had also descended into that cold and logical part of her. The part where her mind discarded all her emotional responses and focused more on the analytical side. It was also this cold mask that often saved Hermione's life since her fifth-year, and gave her the confidence to overcome any odds against her. With this in mind, Hermione allowed herself to enter that part of her mind as she assessed her opponent.
She was certain that it would be soon when the man would start testing her for possible weakness. Hermione could deduce that his high sense of caution was the effect after he had underestimated her earlier. Her move with the coffee table, her speed and agility had surprised him – even Hermione had been shocked at herself. She had never expected herself to use wandless magic and move like a highly-experienced battle witch. And because of this, her adversary had to re-evaluate his next tactic in detaining her. Hermione could only pray that her opponent wouldn't be as brilliant as she was when it comes to battle strategy.
Be that as it may, Hermione was still clearly at a disadvantage here. She was in an uncharted territory with a topography and climate she had yet to determine. An unfamiliar place that would be hard to navigate without someone helping her. If she had escape early on, she wouldn't be able to find her way home that easily, especially in such harsher climes.
Moreover, based on the data that she had gathered and analysed during their confrontation earlier, the wizard was capable of using low-level spells to a certain degree of magnitude. This could potentially cost more damage than Hermione could predict. While his speed was above average, but he was not as fast as she was - and nor as flexible. His recuperation time in between spells was approximately six seconds, but he had been distracted at that time that Hermione could only speculate.
The exact number and the speed of his spells that the man could dispense, either consequently or simultaneously, was what Hermione needed to watch out for. Or it would end up as the deciding factor in their inevitable match – a possible wild card he had yet to show.
Statistically-speaking, Hermione had a 35% chance of winning in her current circumstance.
Nevertheless, she did collated sufficient information to turn the tide against him. Other than the speed of his attack, Hermione was able to gauge his level of mastery. He was capable of using non-verbal spells while there was a great chance that he could use wandless magic, but it seemed unlikely, for he would have done it already.
Overall, the man's threat level remained a mystery to her, which was why Hermione decided to stay - and if possible - talked things out with him while she made silent observations. She wouldn't be able to do this if she had escaped earlier, and if she did, she would have gone blind and left her back open for his attack.
Thus, Hermione was determined to decelerate the mounting tension in the room in a non-confrontational manner, or this could prove disastrous for her.
As all of this things ran through her mind in a short time, Hermione's demeanour had changed drastically. She gradually felt oddly calm after she had donned her cold, calculating façade.
Hermione had to play her cards right for her to win.
"I'm willing to let you read my mind," Hermione offered calmly, leaving no room for misunderstandings on the other end. "I'm willing to do this so long as you don't dig any deeper than my surface thoughts and the memories that I will project. And as long as you do it slowly."
After she said this, the wizard seemed to consider her words carefully, his wand still leveled towards her as they stood there in their silent standoff. They had been in an impasse for five minutes now. How long they could continue to remain like that was indefinite at this point. But it was unmistakable to anyone that there was a silent war raging on between two intelligent opponents.
And after a moment of deliberation, the impassive man eventually replied.
"I don't see the reason why I should do that," He countered sharply, his eyes dark with mistrust. "This could be some kind of trap that you had set up in case you failed in whatever mission you are sent to do. A contingency plan perhaps?" He wondered out loud, his eyes shrewd.
Hermione opened her mouth to deny his completely absurd accusations, but she wasn't given the chance to do so as the man continued to loudly speculate.
"Or perhaps you might even be one of those occult members that could fabricate false memories at will? Then, if that's that case, you plan to utilize that skill to your advantage. Indeed, it is a brilliant plan to convince me into trusting you through this method. And once you have lured me into a false sense of security with whatever wrong information you have created, that's when you will attack and finish what you came here to do…am I correct?"
Once again, Hermione wasn't able to answer. The man had rapidly fired questions after questions at her that she failed to answer them immediately. But he wasn't even finished yet.
"Is that the reason you are so adamant into letting me enter your mind?" He queried, arching his brow. "Because normally, legillemency is often used to pry vital information from the minds of your enemies. You, on the other hand, don't seemed to follow this rule. I have never encountered an opponent who is willing to share their memories and thoughts just to prove their innocence." He stated while he regarded her thoughtfully. Hermione met his blue-eyed stare. "Unless of course, you are very naïve to think that an enemy of yours wouldn't easily take advantage of your willing mind?"
Hermione forced herself not to flush at that. He was correct in that particular assumption, but she wasn't going to admit it to him. However, she also had something prepared for him if he tried to do just that. She hoped her face didn't betray her thoughts away as the man continued to scrutinize her. Because her naivety was still - in some sense - her possible weakness that she didn't want the man to exploit.
Fortunately, the man easily dismissed that train of thought, and immediately launched into talking himself hoarse.
"I, for one, would have done it. There's no sense in completely taking advantage of what is willingly offered." At his words, Hermione's face paled slightly, already imagining the possible scenarios that could have occurred, and the images she got left a bad taste in her mouth.
"Since, I highly doubt that you are naïve to even consider that." The man went on and regarded her in a way that made her hackles rose. "You particularly don't look like it."
Hermione seriously contemplated about wiping that arrogant smirk off his face when she caught the hidden insult in his last statement.
"I can only assume that you are here based from my previous assumptions, and I must say that your plans are nearly sound… Well, except the part that I have seen right through it." The man looked at her, smirking smugly while he finally finished the longest, one-sided conversation that Hermione had the misfortune to ever participate in.
This significant break would allow her the opportunity to speak at last. And Hermione didn't hesitate to start her side of conversation with an insult.
"Oh, you are done already?" Hermione said impudently. "I was beginning to think—"
Even before she could finish, the man had taken a step forward at her insolent words; his face hardening into that familiar, fierce glower. On the confines of her mind, Hermione froze in terror as she felt the trickle of his raw magic abruptly unleashed on her. It felt like she was trapped in a raging blizzard with the harsh coldness it brought. The impassive demeanour she displayed nearly crumpled at the onslaught of it, but Hermione held on to it tightly.
"I suggest you start explaining your presence here, or you will end up splattered across my walls." He warned her ominously.
The image that his words evoked made Hermione want to turn tail and run. Nevertheless, her apathetic face held on. Now was not the right time to panic - or anytime for that matter - while she was finally given the opportunity to talk.
Gradually, Hermione forced her heart to calm down. On the outside, she exhibited that perfect, stoic calm; while on the inside, Hermione was reduce to a pile of nerves, which wouldn't help her in this situation. She needed all her wits with her to try and out manoeuvre her opponent who had a mind similar to her own. She would have to use her adversary's theories to give her the edge. He had overestimated Hermione, and she was going to use that for her benefit. Even though the thought of it was just amusing.
"As much as I am pleased and grateful at the fact that you have stopped underestimating me." She began while taking a step back, a necessary precaution for what would follow. A bait to force his hand. "However, the exaggerating amount of theories that you came up with has left to be desired. And mainly due to this, I now doubt your sanity. Ergo, the use of legillimency is now out of the question."
The man's hand tightened around his wand while his lips were drawn into a tight line. Righteous indignation written all over his visage at her statement. But he didn't do more than that, even after she had insulted his intelligence - or rather – his lack of sanity.
Her adversary was so predictable after she had baited him.
Now, if that's the case, Hermione could only deduce that the confrontation between them was unavoidable - give or take a minute or two - she could predict that the room would dissolve into a battleground. Hermione started mentally counting to keep herself calm. She usually did this to keep her mind purely methodical, and to prevent herself from descending into a full-blown panic.
"One minute and forty-five seconds prior to enemy engagement." She counted in her mind.
"Believe me, Sir. I'm not here for whatever reasons you suspect." She said to him conversationally, as if they were sitting down and having tea, and not standing up with their wands drawn and ready to fire. "If I were, we wouldn't certainly be having this pleasant conversation right now."
Hermione had already changed her mind in trying to convince him - since her attempts earlier were moot. Therefore, escaping unharmed would be her next priority.
"One minute and thirty-five seconds."
"And truthfully? I don't have that particular skillset you mentioned." She continued, her mind already a whir of thoughts and images as she formulated her plan to escape. "Neither am I an assassin…or a member of those secretive occult group. I don't quite understand what made you assumed that I was both."
As predicted, the wizard in front of her dispense his all-too-familiar spiel of insane theories.
"No matter, whether you are both or not. It still doesn't change the fact that you barged into my cottage undetected." He responded, changing his stance.
"One minute and twenty seconds."
"You didn't even get incinerated by my high-level wards that I have set up around the perimeter." The wizard told her, she could detect both the disappointment and confusion in his tone - disappointed that she didn't die more like. "And this wouldn't be possible unless, you have somehow purposely dismantled my complex warding system around the area. Apart from that, you just happen to be near me when I was still in a vulnerable state. Even possibly about to eliminate me right before I woke up, which lead me to conclude that you were there for that purpose alone. Because there are no other possibilities to point out that you weren't going to do it otherwise."
"One minute and ten seconds." Hermione continued her count while she listened to the man's litany of short-sighted deduction. Eventually, an escape plan solidified in her mind.
"And if you happened to notice, this cottage is in the middle of a forest. An isolated place, and very hard to navigate at this time of hour. With the lack of evidence to support your claims, I strongly doubt that you came here by accident. Therefore, I suggest you to surrender willingly and allow me to find the truth on my own, and see if my slippery nemesis - Volkovich, was involved in this endeavour, or perhaps some unknown enemy that I have yet to meet. If you are willing to do this, then I will give you a reasonable doubt. I am asking you this because from what I had gathered, you would rather prefer to avoid physical confrontation like what happened fifteen minutes ago."
The man ultimately finished - which was a complete relief to Hermione. Begrudgingly, Hermione had to acknowledge that some of his explanation did make sense. However, he was so assured of his intelligence that he failed to see the minor details, such as the instance when Hermione had been sitting down when he had woken up, or the tiny detail where she could have killed him when he had been staring at her rather stupidly.
He probably ignored those details in favour of the conclusion that he had drawn, which he seemed to be convince was the absolute truth. Of course, he couldn't be more wrong. His overconfidence on his power of deduction was beyond laughable. If Hermione didn't know any better, he would have already signed his own death warrant with that obvious oversight.
"Fifty-five seconds prior to enemy engagement."
Nonetheless, she still wouldn't be willing to surrender to him. Not unless he would allow her to keep her wand, and all of her limbs free from restraints.
She didn't know how much longer she could keep herself in that same duel stance. However, she need to focus more on her surroundings. She had less than a minute before she could make a move, and Hermione was going to use that remaining time to map out the area in her mind while she kept her enemy distracted.
The dark-haired wizard stood patiently waiting for her response. The lack of any expression on his face was enough to make Hermione wary. This shift in his bearing could either mean that he was being his usual indifferent self, or he was about to do something...
Not good.
"Forty-five seconds."
"And if I accept this, what will stop you from killing me, or perhaps exacting whatever evil retribution you can concoct?" She asked, her eyes astutely surveying the interior of the room.
The nearest possible escape she had was the door to her left, which she suppose was the bedroom. While there were other two doorways that stood behind her opponent; the open threshold was probably the kitchen area, and the door further from her was the door to the outside. Hermione would have a hard time reaching the latter door. She knew that she could always blast the wall behind her, but she couldn't do that with her back turned to her enemy. Hence, she had to make do with what was closer to her.
She also searched the room for any clues that would indicate her current location. But she found none. There were no newspaper articles lying about. It was discouraging, but Hermione would try to look in the other room when she would have the chance.
"Thirty seconds left."
"There is no need to worry about that. If you so desire, we can take part on a wizarding oath to ensure your safety…and mine as well." The man replied at last, interrupting Hermione from her quick perusal of the room.
She met his eyes, and knew right then that he hadn't miss her scanning the room.
"And while under this oath, would you allow me to use my wand?" She asked him, already knowing the answer to that.
"I'm afraid not. You see, I rather feel unsafe if I allow you to roam freely in my cottage while still wielding a weapon that could potentially cause me bodily harm. You are already dangerous as it is without it, as evidence with your unexpected use of wandless magic prior. So, no. I would not allow you to keep your wand, even when you can wield magic without it."
"Ten seconds remaining."
"I see…I understand." Hermione said softly, pretending to be resigned to her fate. Her eyes remained locked into the man's cobalt-blue eyes. She could hazard a guess what the man was planning. She knew where this might lead to, but she was going to play along. The wizarding oath was just a pretence to draw Hermione closer to him and lower her guard.
"So I can only assume that you would be immobilizing me indefinitely while under interrogation, am I correct?"
"NINE." Hermione thought. "I will probably slow the countdown at this point."
"Yes."
"Would it be too forward of me to ask, if you could reconsider?" Hermione asked, her voice dripped with too much sweetness that it could give someone a toothache, while she looked at him underneath fluttering lashes.
There was a pregnant silence as the man scrutinized her slowly, before giving her a blinding smile that didn't reach his eyes. It was full of teeth - all razor sharp and cold. The devil's smile.
Two could play this game.
"EIGHT."
"Of course, I wouldn't mind reconsidering it." He replied, still showing her that fake smile, which made Hermione want to hex him right then and there. "Perhaps I would allow you more freedom in mobility. However, in regards to your wand, I'm afraid you would have to relinquish your wand to me..."
"SEVEN."
"I know… and I understand the conditions that you have set. I'm very thankful that you even reconsidered it." She replied, plastering a smile of her own, but she did let some warmth seeped into her eyes to make it seemed real. As she did so, Hermione noticed the man momentarily pause, his eyes fixed on her face.
And for some odd reason, Hermione's heart skipped a beat at that blue-eyed stare - which was just impossible under the circumstance.
They both stared at each other, unaware of something else stirring in the air.
"SIX."
"Then, I accept your conditions." Hermione stated while trying to understand why her heart seemed to do some strange palpitations.
And while she was too focused on herself, Hermione missed the expression of surprise that fleeted through her opponent's eyes, before it abruptly disappeared – as if surprised that Hermione had even accepted the terms. He didn't know of course that Hermione was playing with him.
"So, shall we perform the wizarding oath?" She queried abruptly, trying to dispel that odd tension in the air.
"Certainly," was the man's brusque response. "But first, we need each other's name."
"FIVE."
Hermione could only stare at him.
"We can't perform the oath without the proper formalities." He explained to her.
Of course, she knew that. She was just waiting for him to provide his name before she could give hers. Her count down was almost over. It was time for her to enact her plans.
"Oh..right. So, may I ask your name?" Hermione inquired, her tone almost rude.
"FOUR."
The man inspected her for a moment. He evidently didn't believe her when she didn't know his identity. It wasn't an act of course.
And in a dispassionate voice, he answered.
"My name is Thomas…Thomas Weatherby."
"Liar." Hermione thought.
There was pause as the dark-haired man surveyed her for her reaction. Hermione's face remained perfectly blank.
"And you are?" Her enemy asked.
"THREE."
Hermione pretended to hesitate for a second, when in actuality she was already preparing to flee. She felt a creeping coldness enveloped her, pulling her into that different level of clarity which could only mean one thing… She was gearing for battle as adrenaline flooded her senses.
The man noticed it of course and his eyes narrowed instantly.
"TWO."
Without warning, the room shifted. Raw and powerful magic flooded across the room from two opposing forces. The atmosphere so taut with potent tension that even the dust particles had stilled in the air.
Yet the two magic users remained unmoving… waiting for the pin to drop.
The battle of intellect was at an end.
Now, it was time to test their mettle.
"ONE."
"I am…" Hermione began, her perception sharpening, her eyes flashing with resolve as her mind settled into that eerily calm state prior to battle.
"No one."
And as sparks flew out from the crackling fire, the two opponents moved. In a span of a second, everything seemed to happen at once.
No more pleasantries – or equivalent to it - were exchanged as they simultaneously burst into action. Already having expended their time in analysing - or to some, overanalysing - the strength of their adversary. Wands were slashing through the air faster than a lightning bolt as the room turned into a battle ground.
And sure enough, as he shouted "Stupefy!" at the same time she shouted.
"Experlliarmus!"
Hermione immediately ducked from the stunning spell, where it hit the wall and directly left a scorch mark from the power behind it. She caught sight of the malevolent look on her opponent's face as he sent another spell at her. Not giving her room to regain her momentum.
"Reducto!"
She knew that the man was testing her, trying to gauge the estimated time of her spellcast and the level of her speed.
And Hermione didn't disappoint as she moved swiftly. She pivoted on the spot - after she decided not to use a shield charm to block the attack. Instead, she evaded it. Her small form gave her the advantage to be light on her feet as she became a blur of shape and sound.
The wood splintered behind her as it was blasted by the strong reducto curse. The force of it nearly knocked her off her feet while she felt some of the splinters cut through her dress and skin. She hadn't even stopped spinning when Hermione fired her spell. Her skirt flared out at her fast movement, where it showed a good portion of her creamy-white legs.
Unknown to Hermione, her opponent significantly paused at the sight, which gave Hermione a few seconds to bounce back.
As a red light blossomed from her wand, Hermione then finally broke down and ran. She ran further from the man's firing range and into the nearest escape route. As she was running, she felt the rush of raw magic shooting towards her. And without a moment's thought, she tucked in and rolled. The sound of wood splintering and breaking glass was the only indication that the man had missed a hairsbreadth away.
Perhaps it could be blame on Hermione's unconventional spinning, it had been enough to cost her enemy to missed most of his shots.
If she wasn't fighting at the moment, Hermione would have felt grateful that she had taken a dance lessons during the summer. The lessons had improve her agility and made her physically fit that she wasn't even out of breath as she ended up rolling on the floor and shortly launching to her feet again, barely avoiding the two unknown curses coming towards her. The shield that she had cast disintegrated at the impact. Fortunately, Hermione was fast and was able to avoid the blue fire that raced towards her.
Something about his attacks made Hermione wonder if her evasion tactics were truly pissing the man off because Hermione hadn't even started with her spellwork yet, and he already felt positively murderous towards her. Or was it something else that angered him? She noticed that he had been distracted at one point.
The scent of smoke engulfed the room as the blue fire spread, eating away the walls, floors and everything on its path, but her adversary dispelled it before it could reach him. And judging from the ferocious look on his face, he was about to unleash another one of those dark spells from his repertoire.
For some reason that look reminded her of the pale-faced man - the death eater who tried to kill her just a month after the final battle. During that time, Hermione had been hopeless that she nearly died from the attack. He was one of the few stragglers from the dark side, who had been murdering muggleborns left and right. Hermione, however, was the only one who had survived the attacks. Mainly because she had ended up killing the death eater instead, by using a spell that she promised to never use again.
The reminder of that man was enough to destabilize Hermione. Nonetheless, she was still able to think straight as a rush of spells barrelled towards her.
"Bloody Hell!" Hermione inwardly cried out as she scurried, and almost tripped over broken glasses and destroyed furniture while she made a strong shield charm around herself. Yet the spells that the man had sent were still too strong.
One scarlet spell broke through her shield and continued rushing towards her.
"Damn!"
She ducked while she forced herself into that familiar battle calm, and was relieved when she was able to call on it
"It's time for a distraction." Hermione thought as cold clarity settled in, and at the same time, her mind started working rapidly.
She knew that her adversary was still trying to read the extent of her skills. So, Hermione might as well use that as a distraction, and show him that she wasn't an easy person to be trifled with. She was done with defending and evading. Now, it was time to be on the offense.
It didn't take a second for Hermione to start firing.
"Incarcerous!" A jet of yellow light went straight towards her opponent, but she didn't wait for the spell to hit its target. She didn't break her momentum as she sent another spell towards the man. One after the other.
"Diffindo! Petrificus Totalus! Immobulus!" She shouted in her mind while spell after spell burst out from her wand in variety of colours - and all were cast non-verbally, which was a perfect strategy to keep opponents guessing on the spellcasting. The same strategy that her adversary had used on her first.
And Hermione savoured her moment of triumph at the look of astonishment that flashed over the man's face, which soon darkened into one unadulterated fury. Her enemy deflected her first shot, and then immediately snapped a strong shield in front of him, where the last two of her spells collided against it.
"Yes, I'm faster than you in dispensing spells simultaneously in seconds, you egotistic bastard!" Hermione mentally growled, replaying the sight of the man's astonished face to her utmost satisfaction. She sent another strings of spells to keep him on the defence. Spell after spell flew rapidly from her wand, and her opponent had no choice but to bear it down under his shield charm.
While her attack had distracted the man, Hermione took this time to dive into the open door, where she had guess the bedroom was. Her reflexes were so precise and swift that it could have made her two best friends proud. And in that instance, Hermione could feel nothing but cold logic ruling her every move - and something else. It felt like her veins were injected by a hundred years of battle experience that she hadn't acquired. Something that was just impossible…
Other than that, there was also that part that could toe the line between morality and dishonour, the part who would choose to kill, or be killed in the process. This was what disturbed Hermione, because that part hadn't been this strong previously - although she vaguely recalled it to be strong at THAT time…However, this incredible feeling - and perhaps the mind-set - would give her an edge in this battle. Hence, Hermione would use it without hesitation without realizing what her action would entail later on.
The moment she barged into the bedroom, Hermione did a quick scan around the place, while at the same time, she methodically casted a number of spells to ensure her safety from possible unexpected attacks. Hermione intended to have the element of surprise, because she knew that the man could apparate in the room at any second.
She understood why the man hadn't tried apparating beforehand. It's probably because of the speed of which she moved. To her enemy, getting closer to her would have been deadly for him. However, this time around he wouldn't hesitate to do so - after having in no doubt – made his observations. Now, her enemy could easily predict her movements.
Therefore, Hermione had to take precaution. And within the span of five seconds, Hermione had already cast a disillusionment charm on herself; had transfigured her dress robes and one-inch stilettos into a practical garb; and had done a muffling charm on her feet to avoid detection.
Under the disillusionment charm, Hermione was currently wearing a black shirt, a pair of black, loose pants, and a pair of shoes. All of which could provide her the manoeuvrability and extra camouflage that she needed in a fight. Apart from that, she had also used the muffling charm that would allow her to transverse the room silently.
Hermione took another few seconds to successfully scan the room, and took into account the minor details here and there. The room was neat and organized, to the point that Hermione felt like it belong to someone with an obsessive compulsive disorder. Everything was perfectly in place. Not one object was left in complete disarray.
The bedroom was surprisingly big - possibly by an extension charm. The room contained a king-sized bed, a side table, a wardrobe, a small desk, and a small settee just beside the window.
And to Hermione's horror, it was all in the different shades of green. Even the wallpapers were green.
The realization just registered to Hermione the moment her analytical mind came to a screeching halt at the sight of a familiar symbol on the floor. If Hermione hadn't seen the emblem embroidered on the carpet she was currently standing, she would have concluded that the owner of this cottage belonged to someone, whose favourite colour was green. But the Slytherin emblem said otherwise.
Confusion, fear, anger and other emotions rose up to the surface and flooded Hermione's senses, making her suddenly aware that these emotions would hinder her in making rational decisions. And with a remarkable show of inner strength, Hermione squashed down those emotions back to where they came from, and snapped her cold, calculating mind back into place.
What were the odds that Hermione would have landed in an unknown territory, where an obvious Slytherin was currently residing? The chance of that happening was just 5%, and Hermione would have an increased chance of that happening if she was still in her homeland. But Hermione knew she wasn't in England.
She really needed to know her location. Now.
Hermione stepped towards the table where she could see a stack of newspaper articles in a different language. This proved to Hermione that she was not indeed in England. However, the newspaper looked to be from a muggle source, because she couldn't see the moving pictures from where she was standing. She had to know the location before her enemy could launched another attack. And based from the lack of enemy movement from the other side of the wall, Hermione could hazard a guess that it would be any second now.
She had just taken a couple of steps forward when she felt the prickle of magic surging from behind her. Immediately, Hermione propelled herself forward, raised a shield around herself and dove towards the only soft surface that could break her fall without injuring herself.
She was lucky, because the moment she detached herself from her spot, there was an explosion so powerful that it shook the entire cottage. The loud and strong blast nearly knocked her off her feet, where Hermione promptly crashed on the bed unceremoniously, and accidentally had her head smashed into the headboard that left her momentarily dazed.
Like a live grenade that had gone off, the explosion took most of the walls down and caved half of the ceiling. Debris rained down on her while the air around her thickened with smoke and drifting ash as the fire spread across the wreckage. Half of the room was singed black with soot while everything was almost in complete shambles. Even the bed underneath her gave a little groan of protest, and then proceeded to collapse to the ground - with Hermione still on top of it.
Hermione was glad that she had use a shield charm on time, to protect herself from most of the blast, but the stinging pain on her back told her that she didn't entirely escape unscathed.
She could hear a foreboding noise from above her and Hermione looked up to investigate. And the sight that greeted her eyes made Hermione wanted to sigh out loud. There were cracks appearing and wooden panels bending on the ceiling - or what was left of it. And if Hermione didn't move quickly, the entire ceiling would collapse down on her and injure her critically. Another thing that Hermione needed to be concerned about was the new set of cuts, bruises and burnt skin that she had acquired from the blast, which also painfully reminded Hermione to make a run for it, or else the man would arrive soon.
With blood trickling from her fresh wounds, Hermione quickly slid out from the bed, grimacing as her wounds throbbed in pain. She began coughing as the smoke entered her lungs. Her eyes were watering as she squinted through the thick and dark plumes which engulfed most of the area.
Then, Hermione heard the sound of steps across the wreckage in front of her, a sound of someone moving towards her direction. She saw a tall outline through the plumes of smoke. Of course, Hermione unpleasantly knew who it was.
The tall form solidified as he neared, his strides were slow and measured as he slowly appeared in her line of sight. All dark and deadly. His nebulous, malevolent magic trickled out of him in black waves and tendrils that instantly enveloped the entire blast site in mere seconds.
With the fire that burned, and the smoke that rose up as his backdrop, he resembled more like a demon that rose from the bowels of hell, than anything remarkably human.
And there, in his red-tinged gaze, was a promise of death and destruction which was meant for her alone.
The moment Hermione saw his red eyes, all rationality and confidence evaporated from her mind. All she could think about was run, run, run. Run as far away from there as possible, or she was going to die a painful death.
Yet Hermione stood paralyzed and trembling on the spot. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest like it was about to break out from her rib cage. She had stopped breathing altogether as she watched him moved closer. She stood there trapped, like a deer in headlights.
Fortunately, the demon didn't see her as his gaze swept across the destruction that he had caused, possibly looking for her – or rather some parts of her – after he had probably assumed that his last attack had killed her or injured her critically… It was his mistake.
Hermione's opponent had started underestimating her again. She wondered why he was now in such a hurry to eliminate her.
"It had been a wise decision to cast that disillusionment charm." She concluded while she forced herself to move from her temporary paralysis, and towards the open space where the wall had collapsed – and where she could see the view outside the cottage, and Hermione's possible freedom.
However, the man must have a super hearing because his eyes instantly zeroed on her, which elicited an involuntary gasp from Hermione's lips.
Honed by years of experience – and a little extra something that couldn't be explain - Hermione already had her wand up before her adversary could cast a spell, and sent all the debris – and with some still burning from the wreck - racing towards him. She knew the commotion would distract him while Hermione started bounding for the area where the walls had collapsed. Her survival instincts was driving her forward, just as her logical brain started working again.
"Trying to apparate would be stupid." Hermione deduced. The house still had a lot of high-level wards that encroached the area which she could detect. Hence, Hermione hadn't considered apparating out as a primary option while still within the security boundaries.
If she was about to apparate, she needed to get out from the apparition wards. And based from her conversation with the man prior, Hermione could estimate the distance she needed to run to reach an apparition point, which was approximately around 30-35 meters.
Nevertheless, this wouldn't work unless Hermione could find a way to keep her enemy distracted, or incapacitate him somehow. That left her with one option, which the man had unintentionally given her the idea.
Hermione watched from the corner of her eye as the man avoided the dangerous projectiles that sailed towards him like missiles. She heard him cursed underneath his breath while he flicked his wand to cast a shield charm. Hermione didn't wait for his shield to solidify as she quickly pointed her wand at the ceiling - which was about to collapse by itself from the lack of supporting walls. All the same, Hermione didn't have the time to wait for that to happen. Time was of the essence. So, she collapsed it herself.
"Bombarda maxima!" She mentally shouted. Not planning to give her exact position away if she shouted it out loud.
A grey light shot out from her wand and towards the half-destroyed ceiling. The grey light impacted and it was soon followed by a loud BOOM – almost like a thunderclap - as the broken ceiling was blasted off its rafters.
Then… it finally, and completely came crashing on top of her unsuspected opponent, who looked temporarily shock by the attack before the entire hulk of wooden panels obscured him from Hermione's view. She knew that the man had raised another shield to protect himself, but she didn't stop to look.
She was already leaping over the collapse walls and away from the pouring wreckage by the time it all happened. A deluge of broken glass, dust, debris and other dangerous projectiles pelted down on Hermione that she had to cover her head. But her paltry defence was useless as she could feel the fresh cuts littering her body.
She didn't stop running the moment she hit the ground outside. Not caring about the glasses and splintered wood that continued to slice and cut against her skin. The wounds were only superficial. It was better than what the man had in store for her if she remained within his radar.
There was spike of magic from behind her and she knew that the man was irrevocably pissed. Hermione sprinted hard, and started to count in her mind that would keep the mounting panic at bay.
"Thirty meters until the apparition point."
It was still dark outside, but the light from the house gave Hermione a good outline of her surroundings.
"Twenty-five meters."
There was a loud crack of apparition behind her - just a short distance from where she had been - and Hermione shortly understood that the man wouldn't hesitate to appear within her reach, when it was already absolutely necessary.
Her opponent then started blasting curses wildly. Spells after spells rocketed pass her while Hermione darted faster than ever, jumping over small shrubs, boulders and other obstacles in her path.
"Twenty meters."
Even when her muffling spell was still functioning, it was useless when she ran through different types of plant life that rustled and snapped every time Hermione barreled through it like a raging rhino. Her stealth was gone, but that didn't deter Hermione.
However, her disillusionment charm was still in place, and it gave her the advantage as she blindly veered through thickets and shrubs while jets of light rushed pass her. One of those blast narrowly hitting her, but thankfully, not one of them made a direct hit.
"Fifteen meters."
Despite the fact that her enemy couldn't see her, he was using his hearing to pinpoint her exact location, and judging by the increased shots that missed her by a margin, her opponent had started to predict her progress with a frightening accuracy. It wouldn't take long for him to finally land a shot.
Of course, that didn't happen because he suddenly appeared right beside her with a distinctive crack.
"Shit!" Hermione inwardly curse as she dodged the shot that discharged at close range, and barely escaped when his other hand tried to grab for her.
She fired a stinging hex before his hand could even touch her. The man deflected it of course, but Hermione had already taken this chance to scamper away.
"Ten meters until freedom."
She began running in zigzag. Leaves rustled and branches crunched underneath her feet as she leaped and sprinted. The sound of spells zipping towards her resumed.
"Please don't let him get me." Hermione silently prayed while she race towards possible freedom.
"EIGHT METERS."
The volley of curses and hexes didn't end. Instead, it seemed to have increased in numbers as the entire area was engulf with different colours of speeding lights. The most powerful ones knocked the trees down, blasted boulders and started a fire. But it seemed luck was on Hermione's side because she was able to navigate through the deteriorating forested area without being shot, or knocked down by flying rubble and other bits.
She ran without looking back, completely unaware that her opponent was purposely sending a great number of spells to hide the one shot that would bring her down.
"FIVE METERS. ''
Hermione would have reached the apparition point, until she felt it. The static that made the hair on her arms stood on end. She paused and looked behind her, just in time to see the white light that surged in every direction, blasting away everything that stood on its path. It was a spell that could throw back surrounding enemies in one simultaneous blast. The man would have been successful if the white surge hadn't been two meters away from Hermione, but it was enough for her to flatten herself on the ground before it could reach her.
The whooshing sound was deafening as the shock wave swept pass above her the second she hit the ground. Tall shrubs and trees snapped back as the spell went through it with an incredible speed, and left a current of electricity in its wake.
Despite the fact the Hermione had escaped the most damaging effects from the attack, she wasn't able to stop the current of electricity that went through her system; her muscles jerk and twitch involuntarily, but she didn't make a sound as she lay there twitching. She lay there while she looked up at the broken branches and leaves that fell over on her. It took a whole twenty seconds for the last electrical shocks to disperse - a time that she shouldn't be wasting while she lay there in silence.
Hermione didn't get up though. She stayed like that on the debris-strewn ground, in boneless heap while her mind flooded in relief. Her quick-thinking had saved her from the man's last attack, because it would have rendered her unconscious and injured if she had been running when the shockwave hit. The only disadvantage about the spell is that, it can't blast away enemies who were already lying down on the ground. However, it would still leave them briefly incapacitated by the amount of electrical shocks it could cause.
Hermione decided to remain in that position. She figured that the man would be too confident to presume that his last attack wasn't successful. Therefore, he probably thought that she was unconscious and injured at this point, which means he would lower his guard the instance he began to search for her.
This would surely give her the time to launch her next attack.
She stayed still on the ground and listened carefully. She was fortunate that she had taken cover from one of the bushes. Inspite of her disillusionment charm, Hermione still needed a sense of security, which the bush could provide while she waited.
It didn't take a minute when she heard him moving through the thickets. He was purposely heading in her general direction, and he sounded furious. The air around them seemed to turn scorching cold with his dark and fiery magic.
That didn't bode well for Hermione. It didn't look like his guard was down.
She had to pretend to be injured by now, and when he was near, Hermione would attack. She decided that it was the only choice that she had at the moment, than running away. Hermione willed her body to calm down. Her heart was raising fast. Fear and anticipation fleeted on her mind as she waited for the enemy to come to her. She had to bite her lip and inhale through her nose just to stifle her heavy breathing while trying to force herself to calm down.
As she lay there, she finally noticed the throbbing pain all over her body. She could feel the trickle of blood which came from the gashes, cuts and burnt marks that she had obtained. Even her black garb was in tatters, and didn't provide her the protection that she needed from the harshness of the forest floor. Rocks, branches and leaves were scraping against her fresh wounds that Hermione had to clench her teeth to keep herself from groaning.
The sound of heavy footfall became loud as the man drew close. He was about ten meters away from her when he slowed down.
Hermione's brows knitted. She wondered what had interrupted the man's progress.
"Where have you been?!" Hermione heard the enemy say to someone in a tone that puzzled her. He sounded like he was hissing.
"Haunting for food, Master." came the hissing response from the unknown person.
"What?! You were haunting? Did you know that we have an intruder in our midst?" demanded the man in annoyance.
Hermione remained frozen on her spot while an overwhelming sense of dread descended on her, when she realized what the words meant.
The man was no longer alone. He had someone with him.
"Apologies, master. Nagi—"
There was an angry growl, which cut off the other person mid-sentence, and then followed by an exasperated sigh.
"Never mind. We will discuss this later. For now, I have a task for you." The man replied, finally able to control himself. "Incidentally, I have a little morsel for you to haunt. She's the little intruder that I mentioned. She's somewhere around here. Perhaps if you find her for me, you can have what's left of her once I'm done."
As Hermione listened to the conversation, she began to feel alarmed at the thought of being eaten alive by some magical creature that her enemy owned.
Hermione really need to leave, like. Right Now.
"Of course, Master. Thank you, Master."
Slowly, very slowly, Hermione began crawling. She only had five meters left to reach the apparition point. She should have done this the instance she heard them talking.
"Go now before she tries to escape once again. Although I'm certain she's probably too injured to even try."
"Stupid!" Hermione reprimanded herself as she crept quietly while listening to their conversation.
"As you say, Master."
Hermione stilled and listened while she griped her wand tightly.
It was not until she eventually heard the soft rustle of the grass and the hiss that followed, did Hermione realized that her predicament had gone from bad, to worst.
A large, green snake slipped through the bushes where Hermione had ventured. She went rigid as the snake stopped in front of her. The snake couldn't see her yet, but it won't be long when it would.
Hermione raised her wand at it, ready to blast it away, when it suddenly registered to her.
"The man is a parselmouth!" She realized.
The snake's tongue came out to savour the air. The moment it did, Hermione knew that her disillusionment was useless against the snake. She wasn't disappointed as its predatory eyes were suddenly fixed on her.
"Reduc—," Hermione began in thought, her wand aimed at the reptile…
But an impossible thing happened.
"She's here master."
It talked… and somehow Hermione understood it – which was just absurd. She lay there stock-stilled, unsure if she heard the snake correctly.
"What did you just say?" She blurted.
The snake in front of her blinked at the question, as if startled. However, before either of them could say anything to each other again, they both heard the loud crack of apparition a meter away, just as the man appeared in all his dark glory.
Hermione's heart leaped to her throat. Her body moved on its own. She didn't wait for her nemesis to attack since she bolted from her hiding place and hastily fired. She acted on instinct and hadn't thought twice of casting that spell… until it was too late.
The spell that she promised to never use.
The spell that made her into a killer.
"Concisus Vulnero!"
Her spell hit the man squarely in the chest, who obviously hadn't expected it. The man looked surprised at the attack before he staggered back.
Hermione could only watched in silent horror as blood began to blossom on the man's front shirt. Directly after, Hermione had taken an unconscious step towards him as she suddenly realized what she had done. She had thought of healing him. However, when she saw the look of unmistakable rage on the man's face, she halted.
The look on the man's face was hauntingly similar to the first man she had killed. The death eater had been murderously angry as well, to have been bested by a muggleborn witch. But he had died anyway… because Hermione still hadn't known how to heal the curse that she had created at that time. And that blood on her hands could never be wash away, no matter how many times Hermione had tried to scrub it since that day. But it's always there, haunting her…dripping…always dripping in her hands…a phantom made of crimson blood. A stain she could never remove.
A stabbing pain went through Hermione's chest, tearing her away from her dark thoughts. She gasped as it intensified; her hand instantly went straight towards the throbbing area, and it came out wet with blood.
"You little chit!" Her injured adversary hissed at her as he tried to heal his wound, but the blood kept flowing. It had stained most of his immaculate shirt in crimson red - his life blood. And Hermione could only watch through pain-filled eyes as the man collapsed on the ground on one knee. The hard planes of his face were etched in murderous rage while a hand was pressed against the wound to control the bleeding.
"What have you done to me?" Her adversary groaned, but didn't give her the time to respond because what he said next nearly brought Hermione to her knees as well.
The same curse that a dead man had uttered just right before he died.
Nearly a year since she had last heard of it…
"Avada Kedavra!"
The blood in Hermione's veins thundered as a jet of green light came rushing towards her. She was still in pain, but the adrenaline in her system force her to move. She clumsily flipped to the side, tripped, and fell. The killing curse missed her by a fraction of an inch, and it hit a tree behind her, where it shattered the bark.
Hermione slammed into the ground. Hard. The force of her fall knocked the breath out of her. She didn't dare move as the dull throb on her chest had intensified into an excruciating pain. She didn't need to look to know that it was heavily bleeding.
"Why? How could this be?" She thought. She didn't remember being hit on the chest, and not even a critical wound. "Then why?" Hermione moaned in pain while she dispelled the disillusionment charm on herself to look at the wound. It looked like it was caused from the curse that she had created. She tried healing it immediately, but it wouldn't; even when she was using the right healing charm for that specific curse.
Hermione was too focus on her new injury that nothing registered to her, not even the man's next command.
"Nagini, Kill her!"
The pain on her chest nearly drove every thought away from her mind as she curled herself into a tight ball. The injury felt like the same one that she had cast towards the man's chest, but she didn't know how she had gotten it.
She was still in a foetal position when she heard something move near her feet.
"You cannot escape me girl."
All of a sudden, the snake was upon her. It reared its head and look like it was about to strike, and Hermione was too paralyzed to stop it, so paralyzed with fear and agony that all she could think about was its poisoned fangs and her inevitable death…
But nothing happened.
"You hurt my master." It said all of a sudden.
Hermione could only stare at the snake's intent gaze as it waited for her to respond. Perhaps there was a reason why the snake seemed to be interested in speaking to her, instead of killing her right on the spot.
"Calm down, and let's see how this goes." Hermione thought as she tried to draw out her logical shield. She barely drew an ounce of her mental prowess, when all she could feel was agony…unbearable agony.
"Your master deserved it." She gritted out. The pain on her chest still throbbed. The front of her clothes was now soaked with blood. "He was trying to kill me."
The reptile was silent for a while as it stared at her in curiosity. Hermione remained still, her face screwed in an agonized expression. Then to her surprised, the snake lowered its head while its eyes became less predatory.
Yes…Hermione could use this to her advantage.
"He is hurt." The snake said. "Fix him."
Hermione could only grimaced in reaction.
"Why should I?" She whispered. Although she felt quiet horrified and slightly guilty when she had cast the spell, but Hermione was certain that the man would kill her first before he would allow her near him.
"Fix him and I let you live."
"No." Hermione said. How could she heal a man who tried to kill her? Most importantly, how could she heal the man when she was injured herself? Yet something nagged at Hermione to do it….The image of a dead man staring lifelessly upwards, a pool of blood appearing beneath a cooling body…while her hands, her hands were …
"Fix him or you die!"
Hermione shook herself from the dark images. She was aggravated with herself. What's more, the snake was really starting to irk her. Merlin. She had just graduated today, and yet everything went down the drain the moment Luna gave her that crystal stone. She was also bewildered by the fact that she was able to talk to the snake. She wasn't a parselmouth. Then, how come she could communicate with it? Hermione considered it for a moment, but no idea came to her.
She turned her attention back to the snake, which immediately made its threats known again by rearing its head.
"Fix my master or I kill you."
"I am also injured." She stated; her eyes went to the blood stain on her chest before she looked back at the snake. "I no longer have any strength."
"Find strength." The snake hissed while it raised its head high in a threatening manner.
"Fine."Hermione groaned. It wasn't an option anymore. But this was also an opportunity for her to keep herself safe. "Then, if I do this, I want you to be the witness for our life debt. If I healed your master, he shall be indebted to me."
"Yes." The snake hadn't even hesitated before it answered. He seemed to be in hurry to save his master. Hermione of course knew that the man didn't have much time. The curse that she had cast was powerful. It would take around twenty-minutes before the man bled to death, and it had already been after ten minutes since the curse hit the man.
Hermione grunted as she forced herself to sit up. She could barely manage it as she bit her lip to stop herself from crying out in pain. Blood soaked her entire front and she knew that it wouldn't be long enough before she bled to death as well. She was already feeling lightheaded at the amount of blood she lost.
"Come." The snake hissed as it slithered towards its master.
As it slithered away, Hermione thought of making an escape, but decided against it. The snake would be on her sooner than she could take a step to freedom. She was also critically wounded, and apparating would do harm than good. She might even end up getting splinch in the process. Well then, Hermione would have to rely on that life debt to keep the man from killing her, or he could even help her find her way home.
Hermione clenched her teeth and followed. She half crawled, and half stumbled towards the semiconscious man on the ground. She realized that she hadn't been the only one who was worse for wear as she considered the gashes and cuts on the man's face and arms - and perhaps other wounds that she couldn't see. Like her, blood had completely soaked the man's shirt. His face had turned deathly pale and there was a pool of blood underneath him. And at the sight of him in that position, Hermione was suddenly assaulted by memories that she had tried to forget.
"Oh Merlin! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean too!" Hermione cried out, horrified at the amount of blood gushing from the man's chest. She really didn't mean to use that curse. She didn't mean it! It was an accident!
"I will kill you for this mudblood!" The pale man choked, a dribble of blood appearing at the corners of his mouth. "I will kill you! Avada Kedavra!"
"Fix him now!"
Hermione was brought abruptly from her tormented thoughts at the sound of the snake's hissing. Her attention snapped back to the present. Her eyes immediately assessed the extent of the man's wound, and it didn't look good. He was obviously losing blood faster than her. He probably would have approximately three minutes left to live if Hermione wouldn't do something about it.
Hermione looked at the snake. "Remember the life debt, snake. Remind your master about it once he is awake."
"This will be done! Now fix him!" The snake hissed, perhaps aware that his master didn't have much time left.
Hermione obliged while she slowly settled down. However, she ended up crumpled to the ground as her strength finally left her. The man stirred slightly and Hermione immediately felt uneasy as she lay there close to him.
"Nagini... did you kill her?" He murmured; his voice barely audible.
The snake didn't respond. Hermione, too, was silent. The man seemed to be unaware of Hermione's presence beside him. It must be because he was already drifting in and out of consciousness.
He didn't talk after that.
She stared at the face beside her before she pulled out her wand.
"Kill him and I kill you." The snake warned from behind.
Hermione ignored it. She wasn't scared of the threat because she was now determine to heal the man, because Hermione couldn't bear the thought of another man's blood on her hands. One was enough, but two was too much. Hermione needed to save this man, because she had failed to save the first one. It hadn't been her intention to kill him. And like the first man she had killed, she had acted on instinct. She really didn't mean to hit him with that curse; the curse that she had accidentally created. Now, she felt ashamed of its creation as she looked at the bloody man.
He would die soon, if Hermione doesn't heal him fast. His blood would be on her hands if he does...a phantom blood stains, haunting her forever.
Hermione could never forgive herself. Enemy or not, she didn't desire death for him. She would save him even if it would drain her. After all, she was the only one who could heal him.
Hermione looked at the man regretfully.
"I'm sorry." She whispered to him and placed her wand arm flat on his chest. The man didn't stir at her touch. His shirt was soaking wet with blood but Hermione ignored it. She was getting tired. She couldn't lift her head to look at the wound, but the position of her wand would be enough to cast the healing spell.
"Vulnus Curatio." She murmured while she closed her eyes. She knew casting the spell once wouldn't completely heal the deep wound on the man's chest. So Hermione repeated it four more times while she felt her magic drained from her.
When she was finished, she just stayed there; her body had become heavy that she couldn't move. She could feel that her blood had pooled underneath her, mingling with the man's life blood.
"It looked like some sick blood ritual had just occurred with all the blood on the ground." Hermione darkly thought.
She lay there silent while her head lay beside the man's, and Hermione couldn't resist from scrutinizing the man's features. He had such a beautiful face for such an evil, diabolical man. With the rakish curl of black hair on his forehead, the fringe of long lashes, the strong masculine jaw, the straight nose, and lastly, his perfect lips. The man really did look like a dark angel the moment she laid eyes on him.
"More like Lucifer. The Devil." Hermione mused darkly. "Thankfully, you are off limits or else I might end up getting drag into hell."
Hermione had been staring at his face a lot longer than she desired, and observed that it was slowly gaining colour. It was no longer pale; her healing charm had worked. She sighed in relief. She was satisfied to have done something good, even if it was someone who wanted to kill her.
"How is master?"
Her thoughts were interrupted by the hiss of the snake. Hermione had almost forgotten about it.
"He's fine now." She muttered weakly.
There was a silent pause, and then the snake said.
"Fix yourself."
Hermione was startled that the snake even remembered that she was injured. She was slightly grateful for the reminder and silently made a mental check on herself. Her brows furrowed as she subjectively inspected the extent of her injury.
It was odd. She only felt a dull ache on her chest. The blood had stopped bleeding. Despite the good and odd development, Hermione was exhausted, exhausted beyond belief that she could sleep for an entire week. She also could have healed the rest of her wounds if she wanted to, but they were only superficial wounds. She didn't need to tend to them with her healing magic, or else she would end up magically exhausted as well.
She was about to inform the snake about her physical condition, when she heard the bay of a wolf in the distance. Instantly, every muscle in Hermione's body tensed at the terrifying sound. Then, her fear mounted when she heard the answering call from another wolf, and another, and another until it was a chorus of wolves howling.
"Merlin!" She thought as the sounds sent a chill down Hermione's spine as she laid there. It was still dark and Hermione knew that the scent of her blood and the man's had already attracted a number of predators in the area.
It wouldn't take long before the wolves find them.
"Find shelter!"
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the snake. She felt it slid over her body and then over to its master, where it looked at her.
"Wolves will come." It informed her. "Go find shelter."
"I can't." Hermione mumbled softly; her eyes, even though they were bright with fear, were starting to get heavy while dark spots dance across her vision. "I can't move anymore."
"My master is asleep."
"Do you mean unconscious?" She corrected as she closed her eyes.
"Yes."
Apparently, the snake really didn't care at all if she was exhausted or dying, but the fear of being devoured alive by wolves overpowered the rest of her thoughts.
"Fine." Hermione released a heavy sigh, and with that, she summoned the last ounce of her magic and created a strong and protective barrier. The red orb materialized and solidified around them. The shield would keep the wolves at bay and provide them with warmth for a few hours. Hopefully, it would be morning by the time the shield disappeared.
The shield had just settled down on the ground, when Hermione's eyes began to droop. A few seconds later, she gradually succumbed to the beckoning darkness.
"My master is in your debt."
She heard the snake say and soon the darkness completely swallowed her.

His eyes fluttered opened, and was immediately blinded by the mid-morning light that streamed through the trees. He blinked at the bright spots that appeared in his eyes, and used this moment to drink in his surroundings.
Tom realized that he was lying in the forest floor with something warm and soft pressed to his side. There was also a weight splayed on top of his chest while he could feel soft breathing right next to his ear. Curious, he turned his face to the side, and instantly stiffened when he found himself staring at a female face. A face so close to his that Tom could clearly see the faint freckles that dusted across her cheeks, the thick lashes that curled upwards and the little mole on the corner of her right eye.
Their faces were just an inch apart that his nose was nudging against hers, but she didn't seem to be aware of his scrutiny as her eyes remained shut. He continued to stare at her, unable to tear his gaze away from that innocent look on the woman's face.
He was brought to his senses when the woman suddenly let out a sigh. Memories of what happened earlier came rushing back to him, and as he remembered, his murderous rage returned ten-fold.
He was about to push the woman away from him, when she did something unexpected. She suddenly moved; her lips accidentally brushing against his, and he immediately went rigid with astonishment. Completely stunned, he didn't do anything when the woman's tongue flicked against his lower lip. His brain was still trying to process the odd situation. Tom was certain that the woman was probably dreaming of someone else as she continued to kiss him with her eyes closed.
And then without warning, she leaned closer, moulded her lips against his, and started kissing him with an unrestrained passion. Tom's breathing hitched while something stirred inside him as the woman started to nibble and lick his lower lip - asking for entry.
"What in the-?!" Tom thought as he put his hands on her shoulder, and was about to shove her away – and with a force that would surely wake her up - when she suddenly bit his lip. Hard.
Tom couldn't prevent the surprise gasp that escaped from his lips. The moment that he did, he felt the woman's tongue slipped in his mouth and started kissing him deeply.
For one moment, Tom's brain seemed to freeze as all his senses were assaulted by new things that were too difficult and staggering for him to grasp, which includes: the taste of vanilla that exploded on his taste buds, the scent of lavender that flooded his olfactory sense, the delicate touch of fingers on his hair, the feel of a young, supple body against his lean physique, and – and Merlin that tongue – that tongue on his mouth…and against his as it tasted and explored him, and made him groan in unbridled need.
Then, a pair of lips found its way to his bottom lip, where it proceeded to suck him hard, and sent jolts of pleasure and dark forbidden lust racing up his spine. Tom involuntarily shuddered. His fury completely obliterated as that tongue and lips continued to assault him.
By the time his mind had started working again, he was already breathing hard, his eyes had darkened with need, and the rest of his body was just….
"Master,"
The word abruptly brought his attention back to the present. Tom tore his lips from the woman, and blinked. He stared at the woman underneath him, noting her swollen lips, her flushed skin, and her eyes which remained shut.
Realization flooded his senses and he was totally disgusted about what he had done.
"I just kissed an unconscious woman! A woman who tried to kill me! Bloody Hell!" He mentally admonished himself.
"Master." He heard Nagini repeat, which grated his nerves.
"What Nagini?" He snapped. Still angry with himself for the lapse of judgement.
Tom couldn't understand why he had such a strong reaction towards the woman. It felt like a spell had been cast on him, and he just couldn't easily shake it off or use a counter curse to remove it. Whatever it was, Tom knew that it hadn't only been his emotions that pushed him to kiss the woman. Something else was manipulating him into feeling this way.
He was scowling when he rolled away from the woman, and stood up. He cringed when he felt his entire body protesting. The wound on his chest was healed but the rest of his injuries were not. Blood and dirt covered his clothes and skin, while he felt light-headed as he abruptly stood up.
He really needed to have that blood-replenishing potion.
"What is it that you want?" Tom asked calmly this time.
Nagini didn't answer while she gazed up at him, then her eyes flickered towards the woman on the ground, before going back to him and giving him an odd look.
He ignored the look. He really didn't want to hear any of Nagini's opinion right now as he glanced back at the prone form on the ground. There were a lot of unanswered questions that he wanted to ask the snake, especially concerning the woman. His piercing gaze returned to the snake that was lazily lying at the foot of a tree.
"Nagini," He drawled, his voice laced with a promise of violence. "Why is the woman still alive?"
There was a slight pause while he waited for the snake to answer.
"I let her fix master." Nagini explained indifferently.
Tom eyed her coldly.
"I thought I ordered you to kill her?" He asked in a dangerous tone. "Why is that you failed to follow my order?"
Nagini was quiet for a while before she answered again.
"She speaks to me."
"What do you mean she speaks to you?" He growled in exasperation.
"She speaks the tongue."
"Do you mean she is a parselmouth?" He asked; his brows shot up in amazement.
"Yesss,"
"But that is impossible." He frowned. "I am the last heir of Salazar Slytherin."
"Perhaps she is distant relative?" Nagini suggested silkily.
He glared at the snake.
"No, I would have known if I have any relatives left. She is a stranger."
"But she speaks the tongue." The snake reiterated.
"Perhaps you are mistaken, Nagini?" He asked irritably.
"No, master. The girl speaks snake."
Tom sneered at the snake's impertinence, but didn't do anything. If it was another person, he would have killed them already.
"We will just see once she regains consciousness." He hissed and turned his attention back to the woman.
"Meanwhile, I shall make plans for the woman. I need her for information.." He said, a cruel smile curling his lips as he ran his dark eyes over her, glancing at the blood and dirt the caked most of her body. Then, his eyes involuntarily drifted towards her lips once again, and remembered the sweet taste of vanilla in his mouth.
When Tom realized where his thoughts had strayed, he immediately wrenched his eyes from the woman, totally angry with himself. Something about the way Tom reacted to her felt suspiciously like an attraction spell. If he found out that the woman had indeed cast the spell on him, then he would make her suffer dearly.
"She will receive severe punishment for what she has done." He promised, trying to forget where his thoughts had been not a moment ago.
"She saved master twice." Nagini suddenly informed him.
Tom turned to her, and frowned.
"Why is it that I feel like you are protecting her, Nagini?" He asked in a dangerous tone, and noticed the slight tensing of the snake at the question.
"No, master." She assured. "I do not protect the girl. She ask me to tell you that you are now honour bound to a life debt, master."
"Honour bound? Ha! If only she knew." He mused darkly, still eyeing her. "She saved me twice, you say?"
"Yesss."
"Hmn.." Tom mumbled as he regarded the snake. "Nagini, you should know by now that I don't care if the woman saved me twice or not – or anything about this life debt you speak of. She is an intruder. She nearly killed me, and I plan to use her in whatever means possible to extract the truth out of her. I want to know the location of that Bulgarian cur - Volkovich, who probably was behind this planned attack. He's the only enemy that I have who remained at large."
"Notwithstanding Dumbledore of course, who certainly won't result to assassination attempts just to kill me. That's too cowardly for the old man's taste. " Tom surmised.
"Yes, master. I understand your reasons."
"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
"No, master."
"Then, we should head back to the cottage." He said dismissively while he raised his wand and pointed it at the woman on the ground.
"Mobilicorpus."

When Tom arrived at the half-destroyed cottage, he immediately set up in restoring everything. He had the walls back up again and repaired all the broken furniture within an hour. Despite the fact that the woman was still unconscious, Tom decided to restrain her, and had Nagini watched her while he cleaned and healed himself.
After he had taken the blood-replenishing potion, he focused his attention to his injuries. As he looked in the mirror, he was disappointed to see that there was now a faint scar on his once unblemished chest. Upon closer inspection, Tom knew that the wound had been deep and was hard to heal. The rest of his injuries were just minor cuts and bruises, but soon found out that they were unusual. Some of the cuts didn't heal after he tried to use different kinds of healing charm on it. It was really odd since the other cuts had healed without even leaving a scar.
More than that, Tom felt alarmed when saw the the burnt marks on his back that didn't heal as well. He clearly recalled that he hadn't been burnt during the confrontation, because he had use a fire-resistant charm on himself, when he had entered the devastated bedroom.
Something really strange was happening to him, and it wasn't only about his unusual reaction to the woman. Something else was afoot.
Even after he had taken a bath and tried healing his wounds again, the wounds remained. He started to suspect that the woman was behind this problem.
After putting on some fresh clothes and running a comb to his hair, Tom finally went in to check on the woman. He had left her in the living area, where he had suspended her in mid-air and tied her ankles and wrist with invisible bindings. Her wand was already in his possession, but he still took extra precaution with the woman, because he knew first hand that she was fast, resourceful and dangerous.
"And beautiful." came the unbidden thought, in which Tom hastily squashed. "Damnation!"
The woman was a complete menace. She had distracted him thrice already. The first time was when she had half-fake smiled at him, the second time was when she had suddenly twirled like a disgusting muggle dancer, and the third time was when she had abruptly snogged him like a bitch in heat. All of which was something Tom had no control of, because he would certainly not lose his focus in the middle of a duel - no matter how beautiful the woman was, and that little chit certainly wasn't!
Thus, Tom wouldn't allow these odd emotions to divert him from his purpose, which involve extracting information from her - and as slowly and as painfully as possible until she tore her vocal chords with her agonized screams.
He rolled his shirt sleeves up to reveal his lean forearms. For certain, blood would be spilled once he get started with his captive. So, he really didn't want to waste his time using cleaning charms on himself in the middle of an interrogation session. The woman was distracting enough, he certainly didn't need another distraction, especially if it was about future blood stains on his shirt.
"This will be fun." He grinned with a dark glee as he exited his room.

"Nagini, is she awake?" He asked once he came out from the bedroom.
"No, master."
The snake was on the sofa while she watched the hovering woman just near the fireplace.
"She is asleep."
"Hmn.."He murmured, striding towards the woman.
As he stood in front of her, Tom studied her. He had purposely suspended the woman a foot from the ground so that he could look at her eye-to-eye once she woke up, but at the moment the woman had her head hang low, and had her brown curls hiding most of her face.
He brushed the hair away from her face and tipped her head up.
There were movements underneath her eyelids but she remained unconscious. She was probably dreaming of something, and Tom couldn't help but wonder what it was. He let go of her chin and looked down at her entire form. His cold, blue eyes settled on the dried blood on her chest.
"Nagini, How did she get the injury in her chest?"
"I do not know, master." The snake replied while she slithered down from the sofa to the carpeted floor. "She was injured when master was injured."
"Interesting." He mumbled, his eyes intently looking at the blood stain. "I remembered that none of my curses hit her. I wonder where she got this."
He touched the dried blood, ignoring the fact that he was touching a woman's chest.
Suddenly curious about the wound, he decided to take a closer look.
"Perhaps, I should better take a look at the wound." He said while he drew out his wand, but hesitated, suddenly a bit unsure of himself. Thinking that he was just being foolish, he flicked his wand and the woman's tattered clothes disappeared from her body, bearing her to him; except for the black underclothes that covered her most private place.
However, the instant the clothes vanished. Tom soon regretted it as he found himself unable to resist from gazing at the body in front of him. His initial thought of examining the wound vanished, and was replaced by something far more strong and potent.
Without even knowing it, his had already reached for her. His fingers were brushing against the soft skin of her waist while his eyes had darkened at the contact, but didn't do more when he suddenly realized what he was doing.
"What the hell is wrong with me?!"
Tom stilled and closed his eyes. Breathing harshly as he tried to reign down the desire that came over him. He was still shaken by what he had done. This was the second time that he almost lost his self-control. The lust that he felt was abnormal. He hadn't experience such a strong and raw emotion before. Even in the past where he had a fair share in woman, his emotion was always under his control.
Women practically threw themselves at him. They had been beautiful and almost perfect but they didn't make him lose his rationality.
"These emotions are too strong to be true. A spell must be involved." Tom inwardly deduce, getting furious at the possibility. "The woman must have done something to me at some point, which caused these changes in me."
Tom really needed some answers now before he totally lost his control, and just kill the woman on the spot.
"She is perfect mate for master." Nagini suddenly said.
He froze.
"What do you mean by that, Nagini?" He gritted out, quickly taking his hand off the woman as if burned.
"Master likes to mate the girl." Nagini observed bluntly.
His face hardened at the outrageous statement. By Nagini's words "mate with the girl" could also be interpreted as "having sex with the girl," which was just completely out of the question, since the woman had tried to kill him, and she's probably connected to Volkovich, which would mean that Tom would have to kill her when he was done with her. Well… perhaps not since he was 'honour bound' to her through a life debt. But who said not to harm her while under the debt? It definitely didn't say anything about preventing torture altogether.
"Nagini, don't you remember that the woman nearly killed me?" He reminded her, his eyes narrowed.
"What was wrong with the snake?" He wondered angrily. Since the woman appeared, Nagini seemed to have taken a liking to her, which was totally unacceptable to him.
"The girl also likes to mate with master."
Completely incensed, he spat out.
"Don't you have something to do, Nagini?!"
The snake just gave him an affronted look before slithering away. Tom watched her leave through glacial eyes. After she disappeared out of sight, he swivelled back the woman in front of him, and resumed his initial task.
He ignored the woman's unclothed form while he started inspecting the wound. He cleaned the dried blood off her skin and closely examined the scar on her chest, all the while trying to keep his eyes off from wandering over some 'dangerous' areas. Tom was quite surprised to see the faint scar on her chest, which was a perfect replica to the one scar that he had on his chest.
Tom knew that this wasn't purely coincidental as he moved his attention to the other injuries that the woman had attained. His eyes fell on the cut near her collar bone. It looked like the cut that he had on his collar bone, which didn't disappear when he had tried healing it.
Acting out of plain assumption, he healed the cut on the woman's collar bone. And as the cut disappeared, Tom touched the cut on his collar bone and wasn't surprised when it was no longer there. He didn't stop there as he continued to heal the cuts on the woman's body, and checking his cuts for confirmation. The cuts on his body healed the same way as the woman did.
Afterwards, Tom started healing the woman's burnt skin at her back, and even though it took some time, he was able to heal most of the burn.
It seemed that his assumptions were correct. He and the woman had shared the same injuries for some inexplicable reason, which he would soon find out from his captive. And he was about to heal a wound on the woman's right arm when he finally saw the scar; the faint scar near her wrist.
Tom froze, his eyes running over the distinguished letters.
Mudblood.
When he read the word again, and again, something inside him snapped.
Tom immediately recoiled from the woman. Fury, revulsion and hatred flashed across his face as he glared at her, suddenly seeing her in a new light. A sound of self-disgust escaped from his lips, when he recalled what he did to her. He had kissed and touched a mudblood!
"Utterly disgraceful!"
And the thing that really infuriated him was that some of part of him had liked it, and had allowed himself to feel lust for her – Her - a mudblood - of unworthy and filthy blood, had made him desire her and who nearly killed him. "This was the work of a spell! Definitely not from him!"
"Is this what she had planned all along? Or even Volkovich for that matter? To make me feel these strong emotions – to make me feel attracted to this disgusting mudblood? And put me under a curse that could make me vulnerable -or rather - helplessly mortal to the physical wounds of another?" His eyes glittered with self-loathing, revulsion and fury as he glowered menacingly at her.
She would pay.
She would suffer.
He will destroy her until nothing is left of her.
He would make sure of that.
Driven by too many negative emotions, Tom pointed his wand at the unconscious woman.
"Renervate." He snarled.
"Time to spill some dirty blood.."
To be continued….

A/N: Hello, there everyone! I hope this chapter wasn't confusing to anyone out there. It took me a long time to write this chapter because I did a lot of changes from the original second chapter. Major changes. To those who followed this story years ago, please read this second chapter first because a lot of things happened here. You won't be able to understand it if you read the third chapter.
Anyways, I hope you can leave some reviews! Thanks to all the people who reviewed! Favorited and Followed!
Well, I think the characters will be OOC in this story, more so with Hermione. However, Tom in this chapter love to listen to himself talk. Is he OOC? Hn..I'm uncertain, although I recall reading the part where Voldemort talked a lot about himself during the graveyard scene in the Goblet of Fire (book). Hmn...I think I will have to read that part again.
Oh and before I forgot, please check out the book cover and the book banner that I created for this story. It's in my profile. Just click the link and you will see the banner and cover that I created. You will get to see Hermione with what I perceived as Tom (Matthew Cohen) along with the picture of the cottage they are staying, the creepy forest around Albania and the bracelet. You can see all of these details in the banner. Please check out!
Other than that, I'm also planning to write a Game of Thrones and Harry Potter crossover with Hermione and Tom as the main character. I also made a banner for the story (even though I'm not finished with writing the first chapter). Please check out the pictures as well! In the banner you will get to see Hermione, Tom and Jon Snow at the center, with some wildlings, a White Walker hovering at the top and The Wall as the background. This story is going to be epic, so I plan for Hermione to be a wildling who kick-ass. You can also see a picture of her as a wildling in my Profile, where there is a link. Please go see it if you have the time! Thank you very much!
And please don't forget to review! It will certainly be encouraging! Your reviews, favorites and follows are my inspiration!
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Mortal Souls