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The Apprentice	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 62963 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
The Apprentice

Chapter Twenty

Dumbledore crumpled the replies in his hand, waving the Keepers’ owl away. ‘Fine, fine,’ he muttered, annoyed. ‘There is always plan B.’

---

‘Erm…’

Doubtful, Hermione looked from the parchment to her cauldron. She’d added the last ingredient and it seemed to be the colour it was supposed to have, but she’d never brewed it before.

‘Is this-?’ she halted and looked shocked at his flaccid figure. His head lay to the side; his eyes were closed, and he basically hung in the chair, unmoving. She couldn’t even see his chest rise and fall. Worried, she grabbed a hold of him and shook him. ‘My Lo-’

The words died in her mouth when his hand lashed out and grabbed a hold of her throat so fast she didn’t see it coming. The tip of his wand pressed into her stomach almost simultaneously. Such fury danced in his red eyes when he glared at her unseeing. She froze and watched him wide-eyed, like a deer caught in the headlights – certain she was done for. His whole demeanour predicted death. Yet no magic swirled around her; no power made it to his wand. His current physical condition saved her life.

He shook his wandhand, confused nothing had happened. Breathing heavily, Lord Voldemort pressed his eyelids together, blinking a couple of times before comprehension visibly filled his features and he dropped both his hands immediately, pocketing his wand. He took another laboured breath and glared at her hands, which were still on his body, warningly.

Abruptly, she let go and stepped back, looking anywhere but at him; her feelings were hurt. She’d meant no harm. She was just worried. What the hell just happened? Come to think of it, she had noticed before he acted strangely whenever she took the initiative to touch him. There always had been a certain amount of tension in his muscles, like he despised it to have contact with her. Hermione bit her lip. She wasn’t going to cry – no, she wasn’t. She tried her hardest to hold in those tears that threatened to leave her eye-sockets by stretching her eyelids further apart.

‘What do you want, Granger?’ Tiredness and hoarseness filled his voice.

Her chin trembled, and she dipped a ladle into the cauldron silently, worried those tears would break free completely if she spoke out loud. Avoiding eye-contact, she ladled the potion into a glass vial and held it out to him. If it wasn’t done to his satisfaction, he would surely say so. But he simply took the vial from her and drank it without another word. Hugging her arms around herself, she turned further away from him. She felt so cold and alone. She inhaled, trying to calm herself through her breathing; but it was no use. She needed her friends; she wanted to go home. She couldn’t do this anymore. Her nerves couldn’t take those sudden changes in his mood anymore. To her utter disgust, she felt her cheeks turning wet. Darn, she didn’t want him to see her cry; he didn’t need to know how much effect he had on her. Desperately, she tried to stop.

Suddenly, the lab turned hot with magic – his magic. It flooded her senses, overruled her emotions, and warmed her body, making her calm down. His hands came to rest gently on her shoulders. ‘Just,’ he paused, turning her around. Cupping her face with both hands, he scrutinised her before he wiped her tears away with his thumbs. ‘Don’t tou-’ he didn’t finish but took a deep breath. ‘Make sure to have my permission before you touch me in the future,’ he said softly.

Hermione looked at him questioningly.

‘You did well on the potion,’ he complimented, ignoring the question etched on her face. ‘When did Gellert leave?’

‘A while back,’ Hermione replied barely audible. ‘Why do you react like-?’

He placed his fingers on her mouth, silencing her. They stared at each other quietly; Hermione with an inquiring interested mind, while Lord Voldemort tried to warn her off with his eyes. When that obviously failed, because she kept waiting for his explanation, he sighed and shook his head. ‘I almost killed you by mistake, but you continue to defy me,’ he said with amused amazement.

‘It wasn’t me you were looking at,’ Hermione replied knowingly, remembering the look in his eyes.

He stared at her; his blank mask firmly in place. ‘It’s late. We both need to rest,’ he said evenly.

With a flick of his wand, the door opened. He moved to the side and ushered her out. Hermione stepped forward and placed her hand on his arm; he stiffened. ‘We had sex, yet this bothers you; I don’t understand.’

‘There is nothing to understand,’ he replied inaccessibly, taking back control by sliding his hand behind her back to guide her to her bedroom.

Hermione sighed and dropped her hand. She let him lead her there; but when they arrived, she turned and folded her arms over each other bossily. She really wanted an answer. Surely, she deserved one?

Impassive, he watched her, until the corner of his mouth curled up and an evil twinkle darted through his red eyes.

Uncertain about where this was heading, Hermione took a step back.

He smirked, and slowly, drew his wand, caressing it meaningfully.

Hermione gulped and took a couple of more steps back. A girly yelp left her lips when her body was airborne the next second and he basically caught her into his arms triumphantly, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

‘Summoning Charms aren’t supposed to work on people,’ she objected feebly.

‘They aren’t?’ he teased.

Hermione scowled resentfully.

‘I just thought if you are that adamant on touching me, Hermione,’ he whispered into her ear, sneaking his hands underneath her robe, ‘I have some splendid suggestions as to where and how.’

‘You are such a barrel of contradictions,’ she growled, frustrated.

‘Good,’ he purred and licked the skin of her neck in one long languorous movement, causing her to shudder in his arms. ‘I wouldn’t want to be boring you,’ he sniggered.

‘Fat chance of that,’ Hermione muttered. ‘Ooooh.’

Boring wasn’t a word that entered her mind when he kept her entertained for the rest of the evening.

---

‘One-thousand-four-hundred-and-sixteen, one-thousand-four-hundred-aAAAH!’ Gellert squealed loudly and flew to his feet, his hands grabbing his chest. ‘Do you have to barge in like that!?’ he asked dramatically.

‘I need a lift,’ Albus said, amused about the way Mr. Hop-In-On-Everyone-Without-Warning was acting.

‘A what?’ Gellert said, puzzled, trying to get his breathing back under control. ‘To where?’

Albus glanced over his half-moon glasses mischievously and waited. Gellert looked at him questioningly. Then, he frowned; his eyes widened; he shook his head as clear horror became the dominant facial expression when he realised where Albus wanted to be taken. ‘Oh no,’ Gellert said quickly. ‘Hell no,’ he said more forcefully, turning away from his old friend and straightening the sheets on his bed. ‘No, no, no, no, no,’ he repeated fast, while lying back down on his bed demonstratively.

‘So, I take it that’s an affirmative?’ Albus deduced, smiling.

Gellert looked sideways, annoyed. ‘Absolutely not.’

It was decided upon.

---

Hermione furrowed her brow, as she concentrated hard on her essay. She lost count on the number of drafts she had written already, but this one returned even more noticeably less red. She’d completed her theory on how to undo an already cast spell when she solved all her problems with mass, acceleration, and force of spells to her satisfaction. Hermione wanted to do a little happy dance when she noticed there were no more critical comments made on that piece of her essay - apart from one little, almost exasperated, word;“Finally.”

But that only made her grin and do a little eye-roll. He surely knew how to overly dramatise his end of things. There were a few tiny remarks here and there on little things she needed to improve or clarify, but the most important part of her essay was done. The only large pieces remaining, Lord Voldemort deemed insufficient, were her explanations on why the Basic Laws of Magic were not the Basic Laws on Magic. He was not satisfied with all her arguments against Law Two till Four. He kept nagging to her about her refusal to discount Laws One and Five when she so blatantly trashed Two, Three and Four. Hermione was positive those two were correct, and she got a bit sick of seeing the taunting red “Why?” in the margins. Really, they weren’t even related to the issue of Controlled Casting, so why, indeed, did he have to keep drilling her about those two?

Annoyed, she wrote down “BECAUSE!” in gigantic capitals after his “Why?” – There, he had an answer.

She grinned, considering the look on his face if she handed it back like this, but he was a bit too skilled at the Cruciatus Curse to really regard that as a sane option. Apparently, Mister Anal Retentive needed a concrete reason for everything she wrote down, so she looked at her white, empty piece of parchment and started rewriting just the bit on the Laws. The first bits were easy to fix. But Lord Voldemort’s comments made her want to hit her head on the desk when she couldn’t just hypothesise her way to a solution.

So, pretty soon her desk was covered in textbooks again, and she flipped through them, quoting bits and pieces of renowned Spell Theorists that supported her statements. Hermione hoped that, if she added their words, he’d finally stop nagging. Yeah, she knew it was a long shot. She could just hear the comments. Adding an adverb won’t make this sentence true, Granger. This part is a complete waste of my time, AGAIN. Well, if Isis said so… it must be true.

Hermione stared into space, her quill inches away from her parchment. She was getting nowhere.

‘Because,’ his soft voice sounded contemplatively behind her.

Hermione yelped, but was able to not knock over anything this time around. She really hoped that some day soon, preferably before she lay six feet under, she’d be able to spot him entering.

‘Such an intelligent rebuttal, I stand corrected,’ said Voldemort.

Hermione glanced sideways and noted he held the draft, he had corrected, in his hand. Crap. He turned around and leaned his butt against her desk, placing the scroll with her capital “BECAUSE!” remark in front of her nose. Silently, Hermione looked at it, not sure what to say. Quietly, she laid it to the side and continued writing. She could feel his eyes burning into the back of her head, but he said nothing. Suddenly, he picked up the books on her desk one by one, checking the titles. Involuntarily, her eyes followed his movements swiftly; she had had a hard time focussing on her writings without all the distractions, let alone now.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked after a while, irked.

‘Looking for your thesaurus,’ came back casually.

‘My what?’ Hermione said, stunned.

‘Oh yessss,’ he hissed. ‘You obviously have one around here somewhere, posing as a real book. When I find it, it will suffer – greatly. And then, I will have no choice but to locate and have my revenge on all those who wrote, assembled, printed, distributed, sold, bought, and…’ he placed his hand on the back of her neck, ‘USED it,’ he added with great emphasis, leaning into her ear threateningly.

‘I am not writing the same things as before in different wording.’

‘Is that so?’ he whispered softly, rubbing her neck. ‘Then,’ he placed his finger on her parchment, ‘explain this sentence you just wrote down.’

Hermione read, “The merits of the foundations the Basic Laws are drawn upon are open to debate.” ‘So?’ she questioned, glaring at him. ‘They are.’

‘Ah, yes, but I recall you already said,’ Voldemort said, tilting his head while quoting, ‘“What lies at the origin of the Basic Laws is in need of thorough research to further advance our knowledge of its validity or lack thereof.”’

‘Perhaps I let that sentence out in this draft.’

‘Perhaps,’ he said smirking; his voice dripped with irony.

‘Fine,’ Hermione grunted, scratching out the sentence. ‘Happy now?’

‘The thesaurus’ people are most grateful to you.’

Hermione wasn’t granting that remark worthy of a response. He smirked, while whipping his wand around. A pile of books clattered on her desk. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the titles. “Ancient Curses, A Comprehensive Study”, “Stretching Magical Boundaries, The Dark Arts”, “Exceptions to Transfiguration”, “Compendium to Medieval Sorcery”, “Isis, Her Life and Knowledge”, “The Unthinkable, Taboos and Prohibitions in Magic”, “The Dark Magic of Potions”, “Controlled Casting, Illusion or Reality?”, “Mind the Laws, or not!”, and last but not least, “Magick Moste Evile”.

‘Charming,’ Hermione commented dryly.

‘You’ll need the information in every single one of these volumes to get a thorough analysis completed on the Basic Laws of Magic, but watch out for the rubbish and clutter filler as well as for some of the more overly enthusiastic conclusions they make. However, Hermione, I am sure you can distinguish between what is factual and what is wishful thinking. You can keep them, but beware, the Ministry tends to … frown upon some of the titles,’ he sniggered.

‘Frown upon, well, that’s one way of putting it,’ Hermione replied, glancing at several of the “Go straight to Azkaban, do no pass Go, you will not receive two-hundred Galleons” books.

She scribbled down a few words with her quill again; but he’d moved behind her, placed his hands on either side of her on the desk, and leaned over her seated form to check what she was doing more thoroughly. Hermione felt incredibly uncomfortable. Not from the close proximity or that he basically had her boxed in against her desk, but she hadn’t finished yet and she really hated it when people read her unfinished, incomplete stuff. He rolled the scroll at the top open to scan the beginning of her writings.

Oh for crying out loud, it wasn’t ready yet. And he knew it; didn’t he just bring her a ton of books she needed to complete her analysis?

Her shoulders tensed and a drop of ink leaked from her quill onto her parchment. He had to lift the scroll a bit to reveal the rest of her writings, due to the quite considerable length it had already.

Really, did he have to do that now? She was still working on it.

Hermione bit her tongue, hard. But there was this fine tremble travelling through her body that wanted to shout out in frustration and snatch it from his bleeding hands right now. She was so busy trying to control herself that she didn’t notice the wicked glint that travelled through his eyes and the amused smirk his mouth was curled into, as he placed her parchment back and, demonstratively, grabbed a quill of his own.

‘I believe this is…,’ Voldemort started teasingly.

‘I’m not done yet,’ she snapped, finally reaching her breaking point when he tried to correct something himself, which she hadn’t even been able to check out again.

Man, did he not know how annoying it was when people read over your shoulder, while you were writing?

But she tensed for real when he put the quill down and leaned into her ear; his hands came to rest on her upper-arms. ‘Has my methods of punishment become of such insignificant quality to make you forget your manners this fast, Hermione?’

She closed her eyes and held her breath.

‘Perhaps I shall require some … practise?’

She swallowed visibly.

‘Answer me,’ he said quietly, trailing his hands up and down her arms.

‘N-no, my Lord,’ she whispered, shaking her head slightly.

Lord Voldemort leaned his head back and took in a deep breath of air. She felt his body stilling against hers. Seemingly calming down, he righted his spine and looked down at her. His left hand stroked through her hair, before grabbing onto a huge chunk of it. Violently, he yanked her head back and forced her to meet his swimming gaze. ‘You’re fortunate I don’t have time at the moment, Hermione Granger,’ he whispered threateningly. ‘I am only here right now to bring you those textbooks and inform you that I’ll be going away for awhile and – and,’ he repeated with emphasis to keep her silent when he saw her mouth opening to interrupt him, ‘if you pass the Occlumency test I’ve scheduled for tomorrow, you will be allowed one week at the Weasleys.’

‘Three,’ Hermione blurted out.

‘Pardon?’

‘Three weeks,’ Hermione daringly negotiated. ‘I can’t sell only being there one. Ron and Mrs Weasley will never accept it.’

‘Two,’ Voldemort replied after a long silence.

Hermione opened her mouth.

‘Two or none at all, take your pick,’ Voldemort said before she could speak. ‘And make sure the old coot understands I’ll be expecting you back though.’ Abruptly, he let go of her and apparated away.

Hermione sat there with her mouth open, flabbergasted. She hadn’t expected him to let her leave at all. But what if she failed his test? And he wasn’t coming back today, so she didn’t have the chance to practise for said test. And he hadn’t even said what kind of test and what precisely would be in there? How can you learn for a test if you don’t know what’s in there? She needed to study everything all over again. Oh, what if she didn’t know the answers or what if it was a practical? She never did well on practical examinations. She hated practical examinations. She was so going to screw this up. She wasn’t ready.

Legilimency is the art of translating, no interpreting, no…

See, now she couldn’t remember Le Fay’s exact writings anymore! Why hadn’t he said this to her sooner? She would have reread everything by now if only she had known. She really needed to study. But she’d never be able to reread everything before tomorrow, unless she made it an all-nighter. Abruptly, she tossed away her parchment, dumped every book on Legilimency and Occlumency she had at her disposal on her bed, and began reading fast.

---

Shangri-La was a cute little legendary wizarding town in the middle of the British countryside. A medieval church with a still intact original bell tower stood at prime location in the centre. A large cobblestone square connected it to the community’s proud city hall, which was also on the lists of ancient wizarding monuments and functioned mainly as a store for the tourists. The locals didn’t use money to sustain in their needs, but they had plenty of it to deal with the outside world when necessary.

When you looked around, you saw small houses build in two circles around the square, making the community consisted of less than eighty wizards and witches a very tight and closed one. The inner circle of houses was for the local population; the outer circle contained the guest houses. But all of their gardens were a prime jewel of colours and scents; the flowers had their heads raised cheerful and happy to the burning midsummer sun. It was an otherwise beautiful day.

This town was above all things a peaceful place; a place of tranquillity, where one went to rest, to think, and to meditate. Upholding their status as a neutral place, this tiny wizarding cult had survived centuries of warfare by supplying all parties with a safe harbour, a place to retire from the destruction eminently caused by battles. This town was a safe haven, a place of hope and dreams of better days to come – a useless place to Lord Voldemort.

Terror had come to Shangri-La.

Flames erupted higher and higher, dancing around the rooftops; windows broke with sharp pangs from the unimaginable heat. Flowers welted in the gardens. Trees fell or rotted. With the distinct crackling noise of combined dark arts curses, the city hall building came down. The stench of disembowelled bodies filled the nostrils of those still breathing. Screams, screams everywhere, people ran, looking for safety that was not to be found anywhere nearby. Blood flew from a body as it bent backward in an impossible arc. Another thrashed and writhed on the floor while a masked, black-cloaked figure kept his wand pointed in utter delight. Jets of light flew back and forth as some tried to fight the large horde of Death Eaters invading their privacy, but this peaceful community had no practice in the art of combat and were just fruits ready to be picked one by one. Some died screaming in agony as they foolishly made a disapparition attempt through the ward the Dark Lord himself had erected around the town. Strangely, no one fled to the safety of the church. The church, history deemed impossible to enter for evil forces, the church that had saved many lives over the centuries by harbouring all those who were prosecuted and oppressed.

Why did nobody run to this logical magical protected site of refuge?

The answer was as simple as it was terrifying. The church glowed with a pulsing green light today. A skull hovered above it, while the snake that left its mouth travelled around the bell tower in a mocking gesture of all that was holy. But the most frightening thing of all was the man standing in the doorway of the church; his red eyes took in the destruction of the town with a detached, unemotional, sharp observatory mind. His black-robed shoulder leaned against the wood beam, while he held his wand between his fingers in considerable boredom as he witnessed all; Bellatrix’s joy, the Carrows’ skill with the Unforgivables, Rowle’s immense capability of causing destruction and mayhem, Yaxley’s fast body repositioning to deliver the next curse not dropping his guard for a second despite the lack of opposition, both Malfoys conspicuous absence from his line of sight, Gibbon’s foolish wand-waving, Greyback preferring his teeth above his wand to do the damage, Travers taking a blow when his spell-casting became overindulgent, and the seemingly endless stream of victims falling one after another.

Unlike his followers, it gave him no pleasure to destroy this despicable place. There was no challenge, no fight, no skill needed to complete this task after he had taken care of the safeguards of this town. The High Priestess lay dead behind him in a pool of blood, inches away from her sacred altar that would have protected everyone in the vicinity against him and his followers. But she no longer was a threat now, and the Dark Lord was bored. He had given his Death Eaters enough time to indulge themselves in their hobbies. Time to finish off this place, so the whole of the United Kingdom would come to realise Lord Voldemort left no hideouts, no stones unturned, and no harbours to flee to, should they even consider opposing his agenda for a second. He pushed away from the beam, gave a casual flick with his wand over his shoulder, and strode into the square.

Behind his black clad body, the green clouded snake seemingly swallowed the bell tower and the rest of the church. A dark flash occurred, blocking out the very midsummer sun from illuminating the area. All one could see was a dark fire raining down on the once holy building. When the church and all its white magic finally collapsed, the force of it thundered across the hills and valleys for miles and miles to come. It was the signal to all the raid was over. Aurors would be arriving soon. With a crack, Lord Voldemort apparated back to Malfoy Manor.

‘My Lord,’ Severus Snape said, greeting him appropriately in the hallway.

Voldemort hadn’t informed the Potions Master of the raid, instead he had summoned to man to meet him here to make sure it would be completed, undisturbed. One Department of Mysteries’ fiasco was enough. Even if he wasn’t certain it was Snape’s fault the Order arrived so soon, he sure wasn’t risking it.

‘Follow me,’ Voldemort ordered, turning away from the man and pacing up the staircase immediately.

Severus Snape had to do a few running steps to catch up, but after that he had no problem matching the Dark Lord’s long stride through Malfoy Manor.

‘I have a few things I need to take care of, which leaves me with a bit of a predicament, Severus,’ Voldemort said softly, walking around the corner.

‘A predicament, Master?’ Snape inquired with precisely the right amount of interest, blinking at the man’s back when Lord Voldemort flicked his wand, making the dark cloud dissipate. The Dark Lord was letting him enter his personal wing, while he still didn’t trust him fully? Snape had the sudden desire to clutch to his wand, but refrained from the too telling urge.

‘Yes, a predicament, Severus,’ Voldemort repeated, swirling around with his wand still in his hand. He gestured with his free hand to Snape to move along.

Blankly, Severus Snape ignored the piece of yew wood practically aimed at his chest and continued walking as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. Yes, he felt perfectly at ease with the current situation. Merlin, next time he saw Albus Dumbledore, if there was to be a next time, they were going to have to have a real talk, because he was beginning to get a nagging and uncomfortable feeling as to where this whole show was leading, and the girl’s name happened to be Hermione Jean Granger. As if having to deal with that little shite in class wasn’t bad enough, now she had to bother him during his well-earned holidays, too.

Lord Voldemort whipped his wand, abruptly, in the direction right behind Severus. The Potions Master turned his head to see the ward rising and the bellowing black cloud settling back in place. Wonderful, so much for making an emergency disapparation.

‘I am aware you recognised her, Severus,’ Lord Voldemort said quietly, looking directly at him. ‘I have to commend your … discretion not to announce her identity to the world.’

Severus gave a slight nod. ‘Thank you, Master. But I serve at your pleasure, not my own,’ Snape said silkily. ‘It was obvious you wanted her presence here to remain a secret, otherwise you would not have disillusioned her.’

‘Yesss,’ Voldemort said with a slight hiss. ‘Your discretion, however, is why I am granting you this task. Miss Granger needs to learn Occlumency quickly. I believe you have some experience teaching these things to Gryffindors?’ he asked with a slight twinge of amusement upon seeing the normal blank façade crack and show a brief moment of disgust before the emotion was squashed again.

‘My Lord?’ Snape said doubtfully. ‘As were your orders, I did my very best to make sure Potter-’

Lord Voldemort held up his hand. ‘I don’t have time to hear another viable explanation for your actions, Severus, I am well aware of what my orders were. Right now, I need you to focus on Miss Granger. Unlike Potter, she needs to be taught Occlumency for real and fast. I can’t have Albus Dumbledore tapping into her mind when she goes back to Hogwarts. As you are her teacher and know her best, I think you are the logical choice for this job.’

‘My Lord, may I enquire as to why the Mudblood is here?’

‘No, you may not. You will teach her Occlumency and that is all.’

‘Gryffindors are horrific in-’

‘Nonsense,’ Voldemort interrupted shortly, ‘she is bright enough.’

‘She is excellent at reciting texts. In other matters her intelligence,’ Snape snarled, ‘is sincerely lacking.’

‘I see,’ Voldemort said softly. ‘Well, then you’ll just have to manage as always, won’t you?’

Snape tried desperately to keep his composure, but the thought of having to teach another lion, especially that know-it-all brat, the impossible art of Occlumency was too much even with his skills. His jaw dropped and he gasped for air like a fish on land. ‘My-my Lord,’ he stammered, trying to think of a way to get out from underneath this task, knowing full well that telling Albus Dumbledore his teachings were not having the desired outcome was one thing, telling the Dark Lord Granger was unsuccessful in acquiring the skill would be detrimental to his health for sure.

‘She is in that room.’ Voldemort pointed to the right door. ‘You and only you can leave and enter this place every full hour on the dot. I’ve set the wards to make this possible. I’ll be returning tomorrow afternoon and I’ll better see some form of Occlumency from Miss Granger then.’

Lord Voldemort disapparated without another word, leaving Severus Snape standing in the corridor alone and flabbergasted. However, by the time he regained his composure, swung open the door to Hermione’s room, and stalked in, his mood had altered to being severely pissed of.

---

Lying on her belly on the bed, Hermione flipped the page of the Legilimency book when the door flew open. Surprised, she looked up, not used to noticing the Dark Lord entering. However, to her utter shock, it was not him. Her Potions Professor stood there; a towering mass of black glowered down at her with furious eyes. Crap. She wasn’t disillusioned. What was he doing here?

“Pro-professor?’ Hermione stuttered, confused.

‘Miss Granger,’ Snape said quietly, taking in the fully at ease witch on the bed.

Cautiously, Hermione rose and backed of the bed. Snape’s glare made her feel like drawing her wand in defence immediately. She settled for putting her hand in her pocket. What on earth was going on? Her eyes glanced past Severus Snape as she moved around the bedpost to the centre of the room, but nobody else was visible.

‘It seems…,’ Snape halted, slamming the door to with a flick of his wand, ‘the Dark Lord wishes you to study Occlumency.’

Hermione frowned. Wishes her to study Occlumency?

‘Apparently,’ Snape’s eyes darted mockingly to the books on her bed, ‘he is under the mistaken impression your meaningless quoting of texts can be turned to actual hands on reality.’

Hermione opened her mouth to inform her professor she had been practising for quite some time now.

‘Do not interrupt me, Granger,’ Snape said, his voice low and controlled. ‘As you may have noticed, this is not Hogwarts,’ he added almost happily, before moving to her threateningly. ‘Failure to listen to my directives here will have much dire consequences than a mere drop in Gryffindor House points. Do I make myself clear?’

Gee, relax, take a happy pill, and pull that gigantic plug from your arse.

She nodded quietly, having a huge problem keeping from giggling loudly, because really, did he think she was scared of him - after having spent weeks with his master?

‘Now I am sure Potter,’ he spat, ‘has informed you all about his private little lessons with me.’

Hermione nodded; her eyes darted around the room again, not sure this was a good subject of conversation to get into.

Snape snorted condescendingly. ‘Rest assure, though I am aware your practical skills are even more deplorable than your alleged friend’s and this is most likely an impossible endeavour for me to undertake, I will expect you not only to pay full attention to these lessons, but you will also practise that which I tell you to practise. If I find out you – like Potter – do not practise, you will be in the unhappy situation of not having the protection of Albus Dumbledore around when you face me again.’ His lip curled in anticipation and he continued in the same soft tone of voice, ‘Occlumency is a branch of magic that seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence, as I am sure you are able to quote word for word from those books you’ve read. Did your friend,’ he sneered as he spoke that last word, ‘tell you how he was supposed to practise closing his mind?’

‘You told Harry,’ Hermione replied with clear emphasis on the name, ‘that he needed to clear his mind of all feelings, thoughts and emotions.’ Otherwise known as the insane defence, she added in her mind mockingly.

Snape narrowed his eyes at her. ‘When you address me, it will be with the proper respect, Granger. You will either call me “sir” or “Professor” at all times.’

‘Yes, Professor,’ Hermione replied somewhat through clenched teeth.

‘Well, well, well, it seems Potter’s lack of self-control is contagious,’ he snarled, while stalking around her. ‘But it is surprising to hear the Chosen One could even be bothered to hear my valuable words on how it was to be done; it makes his failure at occluding his mind even more grotesque. Of course, his arrogance led to Black’s fortunate early demise, so I suppose there always is a silver lining to be found in every cloud.’

‘That was not Harry’s fault,’ Hermione spat angrily. ‘Sir.’

‘Really? Are you telling me you didn’t do everything in your power to talk him out of going to the ministry and play the hero over and over again? But Potter wouldn’t listen, would he? He couldn’t leave it up to others to find out what was happening. No, he believes his all-mighty presence is required to save the day everywhere,’ Snape snarled viciously. ‘Though, I suppose Black can take some of the blame, too. I heard he just stood there laughing when Bellatrix killed him – didn’t even have his defence up. Potter and Black,’ he sniffed haughtily, ‘they never knew when to quit even-’

‘Don’t talk about them like this!’ Hermione yelled furiously, clutching to the wand in her pocket. ‘They didn’t choose to be in this mess. Don’t you think Harry wouldn’t prefer to still have his parents around? And Sirius died to protect others. I never see you do anything to help another human being, so stop making degrading comments about those who try. Where the hell were you anyway when everyone fought for their lives?’

Snape bowed down; his greasy nose inches away from hers. ‘Exactly where you are right now, Granger,’ he hissed triumphantly.

Hermione paled.

‘So, don’t you dare lecture me, Mudblood,’ he spat the insult right in her face. ‘I may never have assisted Potter or Black, but no one can say I pretended to be their friend, ever.’

He swirled away, drawing his wand.

‘I am not betraying Harry!’ Hermione said, clenching her fists. Sparks erupted from the tip of her wand, making her flinch when they pricked into her thigh.

Snape’s lip curled. ‘Of course not,’ he mocked. ‘The Dark Lord is always this…,’ he waved his hand around as if to show off the comfortable bedroom to an audience, ‘accommodating to his enemies.’

‘Well, I am. You wouldn’t know. I didn’t choose this stupid arrange…’

Hermione slammed her mouth shut when she saw the narrowing of eyes and the sudden slight posture change in Snape that indicated he now took a very keen interest in what she was saying. He was baiting her. Shit, shit, shit. She’d almost told him. She wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. Crap, crap, crap. Her and her big mouth had almost cost her the chance of becoming a Keeper. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

‘You didn’t choose what?’ Snape asked suspiciously, his dark eyes trained on her.

‘Nothing,’ Hermione said bluntly, not caring he would notice her avoidance. ‘Aren’t you supposed to teach me Occlumency … Professor?’

‘Yes, yes, I suppose I am,’ Snape said with a triumphant smile. He raised his wand, and Hermione knew what he would be hoping to find. She only had a split-second to decide. ‘Prepare yourself. Legilimens!’

Hermione flinched as the spell impacted on her body.

She was eleven and the Sorting Hat commented on how well she would do in Slytherin. … She was twelve eating breakfast, while Mrs Weasley complained about her too skinny figure. … She was thirteen brushing her hair. … She was fifteen watching Tonks transform her nose into a beak-like protuberance that resembled Snape’s.

She swayed back and forth slightly when Snape lowered his wand with a scowl. ‘Dreadful,’ he sneered, stalking away like a giant bird of prey. ‘Don’t think for a moment I am going to applaud your ability to stay standing instead of crawling all over the floor like Potter did.’

Crap, she knew she forgot to do something.

‘Because that was the worst bit of resistance I have ever encountered in my life. At least Potter produced a Stinging Hex to repel my attack. You, with all your assumed intelligence,’ he sneered, turning around to face her, ‘did nothing.’

Hermione bit her lip not to start laughing, because he hadn’t noticed only the last thing had been a real memory and she just couldn’t resist putting that one forth. Oh my… A very, very evil plan grew in her mind. This could become interesting.

‘I wasn’t ready yet,’ she said softly, looking at her shoes to hide her facial expression behind huge amounts of her hair, while shifting on her feet, pretending to be embarrassed.

‘You must always be ready; remain focussed, repel me with your mind, and there will be no need for any silly wand-waving. Now, for once, do what you read about. Clear your mind. Let go of all emotion. On the count of three … one, two, three; Legilimens!

She was fourteen, raising her wand. With a blast that rattled the door, Snape was lifted of his feet and slammed into the wall as the trio had all simultaneously cast the Disarmament Charm to protect Sirius and Remus. … ‘THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!’ Snape howled, pointing at her and Harry, while Fudge looked positively appalled at the Potions Master’s behaviour. … She tossed the Time-Turner over Harry’s neck and gave it a good spin. … Buckbeak flew in front of the window; Sirius’s jaw dropped; ‘Alohamora!’ Hermione cast, and Sirius jumped behind her on the hippogriff.

She’d made sure to end up on the floor this time. Her wand still clutched in her hand, unused, as she held onto her head, bending forward, pretending to be in agony. Her body shook; though, not from the invasion (as normally with Voldemort) but from suppressed laughter. She heard Snape breathing heavily a few feet away, trying to keep his composure, no doubt, after seeing the memories she had forced him to witness. As Hermione had suspected, Dumbledore had never informed the man how right he had been with his assumptions on Sirius’s miraculous escape that evening. Oh, this was terrific. Too bad she couldn’t share it with Harry and Ron later. They would have got a kick out of hearing it. What other memories could she…?

Oh man, she should have thought of that one first!

Looking forward to the next round, she decided to make sure she ended the session this time. After all, why pass on a perfectly fine excuse to curse the man? That would be a waste. Her revenge for his behaviour toward her in class had waited long enough. The only reason for that being she didn’t think she could get away with it in Hogwarts. Now she could. Ermmm… what hideous jinxes did she knew?

Now, that one was fitting. Her eyes narrowed as she recalled his words perfectly. I see no difference.

Hermione hardly heard Snape’s taunts about her appalling Occlumency performance, which apparently topped Potter’s with flying colours. She scrambled to her feet; her face red from the effort it took her not to laugh real hard in his sallow face. Fortunately, her red cheeks made Snape think she was embarrassed about her lacking abilities to keep him out and he sneered some more before basically ordering her to do better next time or else...

Oh, she would do better. Promise; cross her heart and all that shit.

‘Legilimens!’ Snape cast.

Quickly, Hermione collapsed to her knees again, while placing those memories in view she wanted him to see.

She was twelve setting Snape’s robes on fire. …. She was thirteen nicking Potions’ ingredients out of Snape’s personal stash for the Polyjuice Potion. … She was fourteen watching Professor Lupin instruct Neville how to deal with the Boggart.

She felt the shift in her mind and knew Snape tried to flee the image by lowering his wand. But Hermione felt vindictive and focussed, clutching to her own wand, knowing Legilimency connections worked both ways after having performed the spell herself and having felt Voldemort instruct her in her mind, while she was going through his. Besides, Snape was no Lord Voldemort. Finally her skill at compartmentalising flourished, as she forced not only her but his mind to stay in this visual. Her wand grew hot in her hand, but she maintained the connection. And in full Technicolor, Snape got to witness the entire memory. Above all, he saw Boggart Snape stumble upon the impact of Neville’s Riddikulus, after which he was reduced to wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, while a huge crimson handbag swung from his hand. The whole class howled in laughter.

‘Densaugeo!’ Hermione whipped her wand at Snape.

He stumbled back; his hand flew to his mouth as his uneven, yellowish teeth grew to abnormal proportions. He turned away from her quickly, so he never saw how Hermione raised her head and smirked; a satisfied, dark glint flew through her brown eyes.

There, no difference indeed, Professor.

By the time Snape turned back, his teeth were back to normal. And Hermione had risen to her feet again, her face the perfect portrayal of innocence. This was, after all, not the first nor did she expect it to be the last time she had to fool a teacher. Hermione noticed the tension in his body and the calculating glare he sent her. Perhaps, she had overdone it?

Oh well, she really couldn’t care less if he figured it out. It wasn’t like she risked getting a fair Potions grade from him anyway.

‘Did you mean to produce a Teeth-Growing Hex?’ Snape asked coldly.

‘No,’ she blatantly lied. ‘I didn’t know what I was doing; all I know is that I wanted it to be over.’

‘As I thought,’ he replied in his silkiest of voices, watching her closely. ‘You let me get in too far. You lost control. You are just like Potter.’

‘Thanks,’ Hermione said cheerfully.

‘It’s not a compliment.’

‘I know it was not meant as one,’ she said, folding her arms over each other triumphantly and lifting her chin.

‘Fools who take pride in showing their silly emotions to anyone who will bare witness will never stand a chance at repelling the powers of a true Master in Legilimency. Only the strong can utter falsehoods in their presence. You obviously are not capable of such.’

‘As where you are,’ Hermione sneered.

Snape’s lip curled smugly. ‘Yes, as I am,’ he replied softly.

‘I don’t think it is strength at all to hide your true feelings and emotions. The only way someone can really achieve it constantly is if you either lie to yourself or bury those feelings that make you human so deep they can’t reach you. That’s not strength, that’s weakness. What is it that you fear so much, Professor, that makes you want to turn into this-this,’ she waved her hand up and down at him to demonstrate what this was, since she obviously lacked the correct words to describe him, ‘instead of facing those demons head on?’

‘Are you calling me a coward?’ Snape hissed with clear suppressed anger.

Hermione had to think about that one. She tilted her head and nodded. ‘Yes,’ she replied softly. ‘Anyone who feels the need to bully Neville as you do has to have some issues. So, yes, I suppose one could make a valid claim that I called you a coward.’

His wand flashed.

‘Protego!’ Hermione yelled.

But Snape’s curse never made it to her shield. A second jet of light crashed into it from the side and diverted its path. The bedpost took a direct hit. It cracked and splinters flew around violently, impacting on her silvery shield. The roof of the four-poster sank several feet, swaying up and down, threatening to collapse any second. But its theatrical play was wasted on those present, because both Snape and Hermione’s heads were turned to the other side where He stood, suddenly visible, leaning with his butt against the dresser, one leg crossed over the other; his arms folded again - the perfect picture of ease, except for the wand in his hand.

‘Severus,’ Lord Voldemort said quietly, ‘I do not recall giving you permission to use damaging curses on the girl.’

‘My apologies, my Lord,’ Snape said, lowering his wand and turning toward him to bow his head – his face a blank mask. ‘I was not aware you wouldn’t want this dreadful lack of even a mild attempt at Occlumency to go unpunished.’

‘Don’t try and insult my intelligence, Severus,’ Voldemort snarled, as he pushed away from the dresser and strode toward him. ‘You wanted to curse her, because she told you something you didn’t fancy hearing. It had nothing to do with her Occlumency skills, which, if I say so myself, were quite impressive.’

His red eyes danced amused to Hermione, who he was pleased to notice had a hard time suppressing a smirk. Staging this little encounter had at least gained him one of his previous set goals. He knew now she would be able to occlude the truth from all those with average Legilimency skill. It would do. Especially since Dumbledore was no longer a risk. He also had been pleased to notice her self-confidence had to have improved for her to take a stand against Severus like that. The primary reason he had picked Snape was to see how Hermione would handle herself against someone she had a history with – most effectively apparently.

However, he had to come out of hiding too soon. Lord Voldemort had hoped Snape would say or do something to Granger that would show him beyond a reasonable doubt on which side the man was on. He had a feeling if he could have let those two continue for awhile longer, he might have heard something he wasn’t supposed to hear. He’d never seen Snape’s blank façade crack so many times before. If this was the effect Granger had on him, he was going to poke around those wounds some more and see if it would lead him anywhere. Lord Voldemort never was one to let an opportunity slip when it presented itself on a silver platter. So, he focussed his full attention back on his real target.

‘Impressive, Master?’ Snape asked, looking confused.

‘Yes, very impressive,’ Voldemort replied – his face a blank façade now. ‘Considering how little information you gave her on how it was to be done, it is not surprising nobody achieves anything in your lessons and I thought you let Potter fail on purpose. You did let him fail on purpose, didn’t you Severus?’

Hermione frowned, remembering Ron’s accusations.

‘Of course,’ Snape said; his face even.

‘Because I am beginning to get the idea the only reason Potter didn’t succeed might have been luck on my end that you lack severely in your chosen profession.’

Snape said nothing.

‘Perhaps it had absolutely nothing to do with your alleged loyalty to me,’ Voldemort said softly. They stood face-to-face now. Two absolutely blank faces, not revealing anything. ‘Perhaps you do all this on Dumbledore’s orders?’ speculated Voldemort.

Worried about where this was heading, Hermione’s eyes darted between the two.

‘Master,’ Snape said, feigning shock. ‘I live-’

‘-to serve me,’ Voldemort finished dismissively. ‘So, you say, Severus. So you say. But yet I gave you the simple task to teach this intelligent girl Occlumency and you fail me. Dumbledore gave you the task to teach Potter Occlumency and you fail him. It makes me wonder. Perhaps it doesn’t say anything about your loyalties? Perhaps you are just an abhorrent teacher?’

A laugh vibrated through the bedroom before it quickly turned into a coughing fit, as Hermione had slammed her hand to her mouth; but she wasn’t fooling anyone present.

‘My Lord, I had just begun,’ Severus objected, glaring at Hermione, who was now seriously considering the benefits of dropping Potions as a subject.

‘The start wasn’t very impressive either, Severus. Perhaps this is why Dumbledore only allows you to teach Potions, a concise subject where all the students can simply follow the recipe and not really need a teacher?’

Oh Merlin, she died and gone to heaven.

‘He asked me to teach Defence next year,’ Snape said evenly.

But even Hermione could notice the slight signs of triumph there. Her eyes widened. What?! Snape was their new DADA teacher? Harry would go berserk when he found out. Crap, what if she hadn’t got an Outstanding for her DADA O.W.L.?

Lord Voldemort stood frozen, narrowing his eyes, while looking directly at Snape. ‘Albus Dumbledore asked you for that subject?’

‘Yes,’ Snape said. ‘Horace Slughorn agreed to come out of retirement.’

Voldemort turned away and took a few steps to the door before turning around slowly, a calculating expression on his face. ‘He found Horace,’ Voldemort said slowly, stroking his wand thoughtfully. ‘And the man said yes?’

Snape nodded. ‘Dumbledore had Potter with him.’

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed. ‘Clever,’ he commented, amused, ‘Horace’s main weakness. Yes, the chance to collect Potter would be impossible to resist to Horace.’

Snape snorted.

Collect Harry? What the hell were they babbling about? Who was this Horace and did she need to warn Harry? Oh, she couldn’t, damn. Well, she could always keep a close eye on this new teacher.

‘So, dear Albus handed you an obviously cursed position,’ Voldemort said, balancing his wand between his hands. ‘Interesting.’

‘Superstitions and old wives’ tales,’ Snape said dismissively.

‘If you say so,’ Voldemort said, his eyes glittered in amusement.

‘I’ve seen those who held that job over the years; they couldn’t distinguish a hex from a jinx or even knew how to operate a wand. It’s no wonder they didn’t last long.’

‘Professor Lupin was perfectly capable of doing the job,’ Hermione blurted out, annoyed. ‘Better than you. At least he knew Kappas come from Japan not Mongolia.’

Voldemort snorted. ‘Mongolia?’

Snape turned to her, angrily. ‘I told Finnegan the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia, I did not make a statement about its origins, Granger.’

‘The essay had to include the origins of the species not the most commonly found place,’ Hermione hissed back.

Snape glared at her. ‘And it was accepting those incomplete writings as a passable performance, which made Lupin such a poor teacher.’

Hermione glared right back. ‘Professor Lupin treated everyone fair, unlike someone else I know, who has nothing better to do than try to misinterpret and sabotage their students’ work.’

‘He is a weak fool,’ Snape snarled. ‘Let his best friend steal his girlfriend from under his very nose.’

‘That wouldn’t be the same red head you fancied, Severus?’ Voldemort interrupted softly from the other side of the room. He’d moved there without them noticing.

Snape froze on the spot. His face turned even paler than before. Hermione had never known that was possible.

‘Lily Potter-Evans,’ Voldemort mused.

Lily Potter-Evans, Harry’s mum?

Hermione looked confused from Snape to the Dark Lord, who had walked around them, had sat down on her bed, and was now relaxing against a pile of cushions with his hands behind his head. To her surprise, the post was intact again and the roof of the bed was no longer dangling. She hadn’t even noticed him casting. She’d been too busy arguing with Snape. She really had to learn to keep a closer eye on her environment.

‘You remember her, don’t you Severus?’ Voldemort continued casually.

‘My Lord, I fail to see-’ Snape started, his hands clasped behind his back. He had turned away from Hermione, abruptly.

‘I do,’ Voldemort added, ignoring Severus and looking at Hermione. ‘Such a silly woman. She just wouldn’t get out of my way. Severus here wanted me to spare her.’

Surprised, Hermione’s eyes flew sideways to her professor, but he just stood there like a wall of silence.

‘Oh yes, he desired the woman,’ Voldemort continued blankly, watching Hermione who was focussed intently on her professor. ‘I do recall all the insane grovelling and begging for her life that occurred prior to my leaving.’

It was like her professor had left the room completely; his quietness unnerved Hermione.

Lord Voldemort shook his head. ‘When I saw her, I really didn’t quite get the fascination. She was very ordinary in her fear, all that screaming and pleading she did. Very unattractive.’

Hermione noticed Snape’s knuckles were turning white behind his back, as he had clenched his hands to fists, while Lord Voldemort continued telling them about his encounter with Lily.

‘I told her to get out of my way; told the Mudblood she could have Severus once I was done,’ he smirked. ‘I suppose that was the wrong thing to say, because she started crying. Not that I can really blame her for that.’ Briefly, his eyes rolled mockingly to the former Potions Professor and he sniggered. ‘But it is such a horrendous noise. Don’t you agree, Severus?’

She was surprised Snape’s muscles weren’t popping out of their joints; the tension in his body was tangible. It filled the room.

‘Please, please, not Harry, not Harry,’ Voldemort mocked. ‘Take me, kill me instead.’

The tension in the room skyrocketed. Hermione shifted on her feet, feeling extremely uneasy.

‘Women,’ Snape said in a disparaging tone, making a desperate attempt to lower the obvious suspicions. ‘Always playing the sacrificial lamb.’

‘Indeed,’ Voldemort said slowly, suddenly turning his full gaze on Severus. ‘Would you like to see my memories of her foolish behaviour?’

Hermione held her breath when she saw Snape had his wand drawn behind his back and he was clutching to it. She had to applaud Ollivander’s wand-making skills since the pressure on the stick seemed enormous, and still, it did not crack.

‘If my Lord wishes to share them with me, I’d be most honoured,’ Snape said blankly.

‘Oooh, I have so many things I’d wish to share with you, Severus,’ Lord Voldemort replied quietly, his wand was nowhere in sight.

Quick note to self; never play poker with these two.

The prolonged silence danced around her, made her hold her breath.

Then, Snape moved. His Killing Curse blew up the empty bed. Hermione shrieked when she saw Voldemort apparate behind Snape near the far wall. Snape swirled around.

‘Avada Kedavra!’ Voldemort cast.

Almost in slow-motion, Hermione witnessed the dash of green speed toward Severus Snape.

Crack! Two wizards apparated into centre of the room. ‘Umph,’ Gellert grunted, as the Killing Curse collided into his chest. His hand let go of Albus’s instinctively when he got blasted from his feet right into Severus Snape. The two of them flew through the air and crash-landed into the debris that was Hermione’s bed.

‘Get him out of here!’ Albus shouted to Gellert, his wand drawn and ready.

But Lord Voldemort was the first to disapparate. Dumbledore was utterly surprised, but turned his attention to Hermione quickly. ‘Are you alright, Miss Granger?’

Hermione nodded.

‘Come,’ Dumbledore said, nodding his head in the direction of two struggling wizards between the bed’s debris. ‘We are leaving.’

Hermione looked at the floorshow. Dazed, Grindelwald tried to move up, but he crashed back on top of Severus who grunted painfully in objection. ‘Get off of me,’ Snape hissed.

‘Yes, you’re welcome,’ Gellert replied dryly. ‘I always enjoy taking Unforgivables in the chest for ungrateful bastards.’

‘Why aren’t you dead?’ Hermione asked rather bluntly.

‘Keepers can’t kill each other; there are times when that actually does come in handy,’ Dumbledore answered, gesturing at Hermione to come to him. She wanted to take a step forward, but she wasn’t feeling particularly great all of the sudden.

‘It would truly be handy if we couldn’t hurt each other too. Eh, watch the ribs,’ Gellert objected when Snape shoved him to the side.

Hermione shook her head, took a deep breath, and tried to focus.

‘What Keepers? Who are you? Why are you here, Albus?’ Snape asked. ‘How did you get through his wards?’

‘Can’t say; Gellert Grindelwald, at your service; because Albus is an idiot; and easy does it,’ Gellert answered smugly. ‘Just concentrate and voila!’

Snape scowled, scrambled to his feet, and fell down again.

‘Come on, people,’ Dumbledore reprimanded, ‘we need to leave, now.’

‘I am not feeling very well,’ Hermione said, worried.

Alarmed, Dumbledore paced to her, lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. ‘What’s wrong, Hermione?’

She blinked. ‘I feel … odd.’

Dumbledore stared at her; he waved his wand above her head. ‘Much better,’ Hermione said, relieved. ‘Oh…’ she added, disturbed, clasping her hand to her mouth. ‘Not for long.’

She ran to the bin next to her desk and emptied her stomach. Grindelwald giggled when Snape crashed to the floor once more. Concerned, Dumbledore looked from Hermione to Snape. ‘Severus?’

‘Something is off,’ Snape snarled. ‘I can’t seem to… I don’t know.’ He shook his head.

Dumbledore stepped back. He waved his wand through the air with grace, moving around thoughtfully. ‘Gellert,’ he said slowly. ‘I-’

‘Present!’ Grindelwald said, raising his hand, giggling uncontrollably.

Dumbledore paced to him and grabbed his shoulders. ‘Gellert, can you still focus enough for a disapparation?’

‘Yes, Professor Baumgartner. Deliberation, deter-deterring. No that’s not right. I know this.’

Dumbledore shook him. ‘Come on, Gellert, focus. You are not at Durmstrang. He has erected a Befuddlement Ward and something else even worse that I can’t isolate long enough for identification; you need to get us out of here before we are all incapacitated.’

‘Determination!’ Snape shouted, nudging Gellert in the side.

‘Oh, thank you my friend.’ Gellert nudged him back, which caused Snape to start puking. ‘Ja, es gibt mir nur einen-’

Dumbledore walked away from them, frowning. Without Gellert, there was no way out, and from the looks of things, they really needed to leave. He was not sick yet, but his inability to tell what else Tom had cast on this chamber was letting him know he was not unaffected by it either. ‘Hermione?’ Albus asked, squatting down beside her, concerned. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Just peachy keen,’ she muttered; she had sat down on the floor and was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.

Dumbledore placed his hand on her forehead. ‘You are burning up,’ he said, shocked.

Green light illuminated the chamber; Snape’s body tossed over, lifelessly; Dumbledore flew to his feet and staggered sideways – he grabbed the desk for balance. Lord Voldemort paced past the Headmaster like he didn’t exist. He squatted down. ‘Hermione,’ Voldemort said calmly, ‘this is disgustingly sweet, but you need to drink it all.’

He placed the vial against her lips and poured the potion down her throat. Hermione swallowed it and started coughing. Little bits came back up; a tiny swish and flick of his wand, and she could not open her mouth anymore. She didn’t know what was right and wrong. What was up and down, right or left, black or white? She felt she was suffocating, dying. ‘Swallow it all, Hermione,’ he ordered. ‘Now.’

She complied. The world swirled and the next thing she knew she was airborne. He’d lifted her in his arms. Hermione leaned her head against his shoulder. Fresh air entered her lungs almost painfully. She could breathe again.

‘You two know your way out, I presume,’ Voldemort said, smirking at the puking Grindelwald and the Headmaster who had a hard time staying standing.

With a crack, Lord Voldemort disapparated with Hermione in his arms. A second later, all her belongings vanished; then, all his belongings vanished from the other chambers, after which the wards fell and the air in the room cleared.

‘Well,’ Gellert said, breaking the long silence, while Albus stared at his dead teacher, ‘that was a huge success. Any more brilliant ideas?’

Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes glittered dangerously. He took on a determined stance and flourished his wand around above his head in a familiar pattern.

Gellert's eyes widened. 'Albus!' he yelled frightened. 'I don't think THAT will be the solution!' He covered his head to protect his eyes from the bright white flash that occurred in the room.

A loud eerie howl filled the room, spreading onwards and outwards, across the globe, to find that one ear it was supposed to reach. Cocking her head and erecting a single ear in the sound's direction, a skinny white wolf with grey spots on her fur sniffed the air and began running.

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The Apprentice