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

Chapter List
- 20
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The Apprentice

Chapter Twenty-One

A wolf howl echoed through the cave. ‘Not my problem,’ Sharasvati muttered, feeling incredibly resentful to Riddle for still not having replied back to her almighty being; so she hoped this would raise a multitude of problems for him to deal with, and she relaxed back on her couch lazily.

---

After Albus placed a sheet over Severus’s dead body, he rose quietly. ‘Friend of yours?’ Gellert asked softly from within one of the comfy armchairs, withstanding the urge to let out a relieved sigh when Albus didn’t notice what he had nicked.

‘Yes,’ Albus said solemnly.

‘I am sorry.’

‘Severus knew this could happen. He was prepared for it.’

‘That doesn’t make it any easier.’

‘No, I suppose not.’

It turned silent.

‘Do you know his burial wishes?’ asked Gellert to break the uncomfortable silence.

‘Yes, but the Princes’ tomb at Godric’s Hollow excludes any and all descendants of Eileen.’ Albus stared at the white sheet. ‘He can have my grave there. I have different plans.’

Gellert raised his eyebrows. ‘As in the Resurrection Stone?’

Albus smiled and sat down in the other chair. ‘Still obsessing over those Hallows, Gellert?’

‘Eh, you said it. The stone is the only thing you are still missing to become Master of Death.’

‘I don’t have the cloak either.’

‘But you know where it is,’ Gellert said deviously, making a little nicking motion with his hand. ‘Two out of three.’

‘One out of three,’ Albus replied mischievously, wiggling the wand in his hand.

‘Ugh, no need to rub it in.’

Albus chuckled. ‘No Hallows, I’ve put it in my will that I want to be buried on the grounds of Hogwarts.’

‘Hogwarts?’ Gellert replied, puzzled. ‘Why would you...?’ he paused and stared at Albus. Suddenly enlightened, his eyes widened. ‘Death enchantments, you placed protective death enchantments on the grounds!’ He slapped Albus in his shoulder, delighted.

‘Shhh, we don’t want it to become public knowledge, Gellert.’

‘I say, those enchantments are very illegal. What would people say if they knew the great Albus Dumbledore used the epitome of the Dark Arts on the premises of Hogwarts?’

‘Thank you?’ Albus suggested ironically.

Gellert sniggered. ‘They won’t work fully until you die, though.’

‘They won’t be necessary until I die. He won’t target the school personally as long as I am there.’

‘Overconfident much?’

‘Simple Keeper strategy.’

‘You came after me, despite that we were both Keepers,’ Gellert disagreed.

‘I meant to stop you, not kill you. We know Tom has a different agenda in mind.’

‘No shit,’ Gellert snorted. ‘Those enchantments won’t work fully too if they do not bury your body there. People are bound to oppose your wish; it is, after all, a school, not a graveyard. It’s a huge gamble to take since you can’t inform those idiots that run the ministry in this country why you want this done.’

‘I believe Minerva will have it covered. She is excellent at twisting people’s arms around.’

‘Still a gamble,’ Gellert replied, giggling at the visual in his mind of McGonagall wrestling Rufus Scrimgeour down.

‘Gellert?’ Albus asked after a long pause.

‘Oh dear, I know that tone,’ Gellert said, hiding his eyes behind his hand in mock fear.

‘Can I count on your vote when Ljudmila calls for one?’

‘She won’t call a vote, Albus. She will reach a decision and the outcome will not be pretty either way if she uses the key.’

‘If she does call for a vote?’ he waited expectantly.

Gellert groaned. ‘Oh, what the hell,’ he said, tossing his hands in the air in surrender. ‘Sure, why not? I am probably already on that maniac’s shit-list anyway.’

Albus looked sideways, chuckling. ‘Everyone breathing is.’

‘Trying to make me feel insignificant?’ Gellert replied in mock indignation. ‘After I-’

BANG!

A vortex, formed by a blazing wind that circled around, emitted an eerie high howling noise, and in the centre of it all, appeared a skinny white wolf. Its grey spotted fur rustled calmly. The wolf tilted her head back and howled with all her might. The wind died down and the wolf stepped forward, blinking her teeth threateningly.

‘Hello Ljudmila,’ Albus welcomed her, rising from his chair. ‘I am glad you could make it on such short notice.’

Gellert tipped his imaginary hat.

‘Albus, Gellert,’ the wolf barked and shifted back into human form instantaneously. The elderly, stately witch pulled a chain with an ancient key out of her burgundy robes. ‘If you want me to open that box of Pandora, you better have a valid reason, Albus.’

‘Hermione Jean Granger,’ Dumbledore merely said.

‘Good enough reason for me,’ Volkova replied, lifting the chain over her head.

Gellert scratched his neck uncomfortable, but he didn’t comment on the events at hand. Ljudmila Volkova held out the key. It clicked into an invisible lock in the air. White light and dark shadows leaked from the invisible keyhole, showing its outline in different aspects of grey.

‘Alohamora!’ Volkova spoke out loud. It was as simple as it was effective. The key started turning and turning, faster and faster, until another click sounded, causing dark and white smoke to whirl into the chamber in a square shape. ‘The doorway is formed,’ Volkova continued, according to protocol. ‘Who calls for its usage?’

‘I do, Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore.’

The door seemingly blazed with magic and turned more physical. It’s blue wood almost tangible to touch.

‘The transient’s name.’

‘Hermione Jean Granger,’ Dumbledore continued.

A bronze doorknob became visible.

‘Should anyone object let them speak-’

‘I do,’ Li Mei spoke furiously from behind them, not letting Ljudmila finish.

The door’s features blurred immediately, and a ferocious howl came from behind it. A crash sounded, and the smoky outline trembled.

‘Are you all out of your mind?’ Li Mei snarled, stepping into the bedroom – wand in hand. ‘Don’t you remember what happened to the last candidate who had to go through that door prematurely!?’

---

The sickening sensation of another Apparation did not do wonders for Hermione’s already upset stomach. It also didn’t help that the place they apparated into had a pronounced smell of dust and decay about it. Lord Voldemort swished his wand about in short bursts, while she clutched to his robes tightly – the back of her wrist clasped to her mouth, trying to stop the more than likely not so desirable outcome of vomiting all over the Dark Lord. Not that it would be her fault. She’d lost track of the amount of Apparitions he had done in a brief amount of time, and it was his stupid ward that got her sick in the first place; but she also knew who she was dealing with, Lord I-Never-Accept-Any-Responsibility-For-Anything-That-Goes-Wrong.

Despite her physical condition, she had taken notice of some of the places they’d been. She’d seen him disassemble his Potions’ lab at Malfoy Manor with two simple flicks of his wrists, after which he had used a Banishing Charm on everything. Where he sent it all to, she had no idea. To her absolute horror, he had apparated them straight into her parents’ house, which according to Albus Dumbledore should have been impossible. Only to find all her belongings were there, which he collected (including her Hogwarts trunk), and then, disapparated again right before her mother opened her bedroom door to check what the noise was about. And they’d been to several other places, where he did Godric only knew what before moving on to Godric knew where and making her thoroughly dizzy.

However, her will bested her stomach and she was able to keep everything in. Though, she couldn’t tell for how much longer she’d stay this successful. Hermione took a deep breath and looked up questioningly. Lord Voldemort didn’t acknowledge her existence, but continued casting behind her back, while keeping a firm grip on her waist. Hermione turned her head to the side. A barred window gave her a glimpse of an overgrown lawn and a neglected garden, and in the distance below, she saw a little village. Cobwebs trailed between the long, moth-eaten, velvet curtains and all across the ceiling’s wooden beams. Layers and layers of dust had been collected on the ancient furniture she could see on her right and left.

Merlin, they obviously hadn’t arrived wherever he planned on going. Well, if he wanted to get puked on, another Apparation would get him his wish. Right now, she felt more than happy to oblige. A screeching noise sounded behind her. She tilted her head to witness the hearth-covering grate move to the side at his command. When an eerie howl oscillated around them, his body stiffened abruptly.

‘Wolves?’ Hermione muttered, looking to the window confused. ‘Out here?’ she added, frowning. ‘What?’ she snapped when she watched him looking at her incredulously. ‘I am not stupid. I know natural wolves have been wiped out in the UK almost three-hundred years ago, and it is daylight; so it can’t be a were. But I am sure I heard something that sounded like one. Maybe an Animagus?’ she muttered to herself, puzzled.

‘You heard it?’ Voldemort said questioningly, ignoring her speculations with regards to the origin of the sound. His eyes narrowed. ‘You could hear the call?’

Call?

‘Erm… I heard a wolf howl?’ she stated uncertain. Hermione had no idea what call he could possibly mean, and why anyone wouldn’t be able to hear such loud, penetrating howling. Her ears still whistled for crying out loud.

He smirked. ‘You heard correctly,’ he said positively delighted. ‘This is most insightful news.’

Hermione scowled. ‘Well?’ she said impatiently. ‘Aren’t you going to share your wonderful insightfulness?’

‘Some things are better left unknown. We wouldn’t want you to grow complacent, my dear,’ he said, patting her on the head.

‘Because there is such a huge risk at that,’ Hermione snarled.

He grinned; his red eyes danced with mirth. ‘Apparently, dear Albus is bringing in reinforcements. Though I sincerely doubt Volkova will grant him what he needs, it may be prudent for me to go make sure she doesn’t when I am done here. The woman has been known to make the occasional incomprehensible choice and she does hold the key.’

‘Wow, thanks for clearing that up,’ Hermione said sarcastically.

She only got a small, taunting nod back in response and he focussed back on the hearth behind her. A stream of unidentifiable syllables left the Dark Lord’s mouth in a fluent hiss.

Parseltongue, crap!

Quickly, Hermione’s eyes scanned the dust-filled floor, but it was empty of any creepy movement. Thank Rowena. She really, really didn’t like snakes. Relieved, she looked back at the hearth, which bricks were now in the process of reassembling. Apparently, he controlled them via Parseltongue – convenient for Harry; it was just another thing she filed away on the slowly increasing list for future usage. The bricks rolled away, heightening and widening the hearth, so a grown man could stand in the created alcove.

Oh no, not another magical passageway.

‘I will puke all over you,’ she threatened. To her surprise, her voice was clear and steady, unlike her still queasy stomach.

‘That,’ Voldemort paused, ‘would be inadvisable.’

‘Really?’ she mocked, shaking her head. ‘I hadn’t considered that before. Thanks for the warning.’

Red eyes glittered down and she was certain his lipless mouth was in the process of forming that annoying trademark smirk of his. ‘You’re welcome,’ he responded ironically, and indeed, smirking.

Merlin, how she felt like taking a good swing at him. Alas, unlike with Draco, there was no good target in that face of his. Perhaps it was why he had disposed of his nose. Too many women had hit on it.

He sniggered. ‘Actually-,’ he started.

Hermione groaned. She really didn’t need to hear the end of the sentence, considering his upbeat, smug tone.

‘-nose or not, they usually hit on all of me,’ he finished, gesturing with his hand up and down his very marvellous being as illustration.

‘Before or after you called out “Imperio!”?’ Hermione replied sweetly.

Slowly, he leaned into her – his breath brushed her neck and she shivered. ‘Why, is that a suggestion, Granger?’ he whispered. ‘Because I do recall how eager you were before and sex performed under the Imperius Curse does have some very interesting advantages.’

Ugh. Hermione rolled her eyes. Why did she even bother? With his manipulative word skills, it was a mission impossible to gain the upper hand. Something glided on the ground in the corner of her eye, something long and venomous.

‘Eek!’ Hermione called out and jumped in Lord Voldemort’s arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist; so she was no longer standing on the same floor the snake moved on.

‘Don’t tell me you are frightened of snakes?’ he asked, sniggering.

‘They are not my favourite thing,’ Hermione replied in a slightly higher voice than normally, while she glared directly at him during the deliberate use of the plural pronoun.

A condescending snort was his reply, followed by a teasing, ‘But Nagini is such a cute, little cobra.’

‘Little? Little!’ Hermione objected. ‘It must be ten feet long.’

‘Twelve,’ he corrected, amused.

‘Even better,’ she sneered sarcastically.

‘Indeed,’ he concurred, unabashed. ‘So I do have to wonder why you think this-,’ he pointed from the floor to her body, ‘is high enough to be safe from her?’

He added something to Nagini in Parseltongue, while Hermione followed his gesturing with her eyes. To her absolute horror, the huge snake lifted its triangular head and rose, standing on its body for about four feet into the air. When Nagini flicked its forked tongue at her, Hermione tried to scoot away in Voldemort’s arms; but he held on tightly, shaking with laughter.

‘Will you keep that poisonous thing away from me!’ she squeaked panicky.

‘She won’t bite you, Hermione,’ Voldemort replied, still entertained. His eyes glittered and he licked her neck deviously. ‘Mmm, I have to agree; she does taste nicely,’ he said to the snake, with a sideway teasing glance at Hermione.

Abruptly, Hermione withdrew one of her arms from around his neck and yanked her wand from her pocket. ‘Get rid of it or I will,’ she threatened through clenched teeth, changing the mood in the room instantaneously.

Voldemort swirled, turning them one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. She no longer had a direct aim at Nagini. Crap! She wiggled, moving her arm so she could still curse the snake. ‘From this distance, all Nagini has to do is spit, Hermione,’ he hissed in her ear, no longer laughing, and he tightened his grip around her torso painfully, ‘you’ll be incapacitated before you have the chance to curse her.’

‘Considering our close proximity,’ Hermione hissed back in his ear, ‘I’d say there is a huge risk of her hitting you instead of me, especially if we’re moving. Sure you want to take your chance at that happening? Because I will go for that Unforgivable Grindelwald suggested.’

‘If you plan to kill Nagini, Granger, I suggest you seriously factor in the necessity to kill me too, because you will not enjoy what I will do to you afterward.’

He flicked his wrist and caught his wand in his hand, poking it between her ribs immediately. Hermione tensed, tightening her grip on his body. Their standoff gained a high level of intimacy, due to their close physical contact and the sudden seriousness of the consequences which would follow. Her ribcage expanded against his chest as she inhaled. She closed her eyes briefly upon feeling her hair tickle her cheek when he moved his cheek, brushing against hers. Hermione had a clear shot at Nagini, but he was bound to retaliate before her curse would even hit the snake. It was kind of a miracle he hadn’t cursed her already.

However, he seemed to wait for her to make her choice. His ego obviously did not consider the possibility of her following through on her threat. He waited for her to yield. She was certain of it; otherwise he would have cursed her. ‘Tell it to leave the room,’ Hermione breathed against his ear, not backing down.

‘You will lose, Hermione,’ he warned her quietly.

‘So will you,’ she replied, determined.

The tension in her body was painful in her muscles. Her neck ached from the strain. And she knew she could not win this, but somehow, it didn’t matter. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of surrendering right now. Besides, she remembered clearly how badly Ron’s dad had got hurt; she didn’t want to take her chances with this particular snake. Well, it had to be the same one. How many humungous snakes could one person have?

Scratch that. She didn’t want to know.

They stood there silently, unmoving, for what seemed like hours when, suddenly, a stream of Parseltongue syllables left his lips against her cheek. It flowed fluently across the room and made her shudder in his arms. Hermione blinked. Did he just give up? She began to relax when Nagini slid somewhat away from them, while Lord Voldemort continued speaking in that sibilant hiss. Slowly, her grip on him loosened and she had a hard time keeping her eyes open and her wand aimed, while those strange foreign sounds wrapped around her and made her calm and sleepy.

Wait a sec. He was cursing her! She clutched to her wand and fought against the sensation.

‘S-stop,’ she stuttered, almost dozing of.

He licked and sucked at her skin in between the flow of his unidentifiable speech. Dazed, she tilted her head, allowing him better access with a moan, leaning against him. He switched to English. ‘That’s it, little one,’ he whispered with a kiss. ‘Relaxxxx,’ he hissed, moving on to more Parseltongue at the end of the order.

Magic trailed down her spine, causing her to twitch in his arms. He squatted down and seated them on the floor in one lithe move. To her surprise, the dust seemed to be some magical illusion. Absentmindedly, she made a form with her wand in it, but it did not stay visible. Quickly, dust filled the eight-shaped path, she had trailed in it. Curious, Hermione tilted her head. The same thing occurred behind the snake circling them. The snake! She realised she had lowered her wandarm some time ago and tried to raise it again.

‘Don’t,’ Voldemort ordered in a low tone of voice. ‘This will help you get over your phobia for snakes.’

‘It’s not a phobia if something is really dangerous,’ Hermione denied. The sleepiness had subsided; but she still felt unusually calm and relaxed, not at all afraid as she had been before.

‘But she’s not dangerous to you,’ Voldemort countered, ‘which you know. Hence your fear for Nagini is disproportional.’

‘Disproportional? She only is not dangerous to me if your control over her is absolute. It’s a wild animal not a tame pet. Parseltongue is no guarantee it will do what you want it to all the time.’

‘My control over Nagini is hundred percent, Hermione.’

‘Sure,’ she muttered disbelievingly. ‘If I got a Sickle every time a wizard got bitten-’

‘My control is magically reinforced,’ Voldemort interrupted. ‘Now unless you have the audacity to consider my capabilities are flawed, you will pocket your wand and trust me. It’s highly inconvenient for both of us if you freak out every time there is a snake nearby, because my presence attracts them.’

‘I don’t freak out about every snake,’ Hermione said sultry, pocketing her wand. ‘Just those who have a track record of killing people.’

‘Nagini only kills my enemies, dear. You, my little apprentice,’ he took a hold of her head and kissed her forehead, ‘do not qualify for the term.’ He beckoned at Nagini.

‘Ermm…’ Hermione looked doubtful at the approaching snake.

‘Trust me,’ he breathed against her lips.

Hermione parted her lips slightly. She closed her eyes when he slid his tongue inside. As they deepened the kiss, his left hand came to rest on the back of her right hand. His fingers loosely held on when he guided her hand to the side and she felt something slick and slippery glide underneath the palm of her hand. Surprised, she pressed her hand into his, backing away from the snake.

‘Trust me,’ he demanded, capturing her eyes with his intensely. ‘Contact is necessary for this spell to work.’

She allowed him to rest her hand back on the snake’s skin; Nagini slithered on. ‘She feels warm, smooth, and … dry,’ Hermione said, surprised. She looked down and watched calmly when the diamond patterned tail curled around her wrist.

‘What’d you expected, slimy?’ Voldemort asked, smirking.

‘I suppose,’ Hermione said, distracted. She lifted her hand slowly to get a closer look at the scales and the intricate pattern on the tail. ‘It’s the way their skin glistens, which makes you think- eek!’ She jerked when a forked tongue flicked against her cheek.

Annoyed, Hermione turned to the other side where Nagini’s head swung from side-to-side. If she wasn’t sure it was impossible, she’d have said the snake was having fun at her expense. It seemed to be smirking, and that hiss sounded an awful lot like a snigger to Hermione; so she glared at the snake. Nagini flicked her tongue again. The movement was so abrupt Hermione backed her head away but did it too slowly, and her nose got hit. Now, she was certain the snake laughed silently.

‘It’s not funny,’ she hissed at it.

‘It is … a bit,’ Voldemort sniggered (not so silently). ‘She’s just memorising your smell for future reference.’

‘Well, it’s not necessary to do it as if you’re about to eat me,’ Hermione spoke to Nagini.

The snake froze in its swing and tilted its head. Then, slowly, it coiled over her shoulder and glided down to her lap. Nagini sneaked underneath her shirt and began curling around her waist multiple times. ‘Ermm…’ Hermione said, looking at Voldemort questioningly; because, beside the snake, she also felt some kind of magic swirling around her – something with a very dark signature.

‘She seems to like you.’

‘Okaaaay,’ Hermione said, stretching out the vowel to emphasise her doubt, while she turned into a snakelike version of the Michelin man.

‘And she’s borrowing your body heat for herself.’

He hissed something in Parseltongue after that and Nagini’s head resurfaced from underneath her shirt to settle in her lap. Hermione stroked her quietly. ‘What’s with the magic?’

‘It took away your idiotic, unwarranted fear of snakes.’

‘I didn’t mean the spell you cast on me at the beginning. I meant this magic, right now,’ she waved through the air. ‘It almost seems like its coming from the snake, but it feels like yours…’ she added, puzzled, stroking the snake’s head again.

‘I’ve connected with the snake, so she will protect you when I am not here,’ he replied evenly; his face and posture were inexpressive.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. ‘How?’

‘Why don’t you, first, focus on your assignment and every spell in those books I handed you, Hermione, before you start inquiring about other advanced dark arts spells?’ he evaded the question.

‘It’s just … this snake isn’t exactly indigenous to the UK, and the Ministry-’ she stopped when she saw the pitying glance he sent her way. ‘Well,’ she snapped, ‘I thought you would be all for not drawing attention to anything wizarding related. It makes perfect sense to restrict ownership of dangerous creatures to avoid detection.’

‘Says she who owns a Kneazle, unlicensed.’

Hermione turned red. ‘It’s a cat.’

‘Some cat,’ he mocked.

‘Everyone thinks it is a cat, because it’s only half-Kneazle; so it’s not drawing any attention at all,’ she said triumphantly.

‘Unlicensed ownership of what you now admit is a magically altered creature. My-my, Granger, care to explain how someone your age felt the need to break at least six Ministry Laws on Creature Creation?’ he asked, folding his arms in front him, pretending to be the Ministry’s Inquisition.

‘I didn’t create it. I bought it at Magical Menagerie,’ Hermione objected, wanting to put her hands in her sides, but being unable to do so due to Nagini’s presence.

‘Really?’ Voldemort asked, mockingly. ‘Got any witnesses to prove that statement?’

‘Of course, the shop’s owner knows.’

He snorted. ‘If you think she will admit to selling an illegal animal to a minor, you are sorely mistaken, Granger. She will lose her shop if she does.’

‘Harry and Ron saw it there.’

‘Did Potter and Weasley – your totally objective friends who would never lie for you – witness the actual purchase of said illegal animal?’ Voldemort asked matter-of-factly.

‘Er – well, no, they left before I bought it; but they saw it.’

‘So, your friends saw an orange cat in the shop and left, which gave you the idea to smuggle your homemade creature in its place, pretending it was the same animal,’ he added with a smug smirk.

‘No, I-I… Ooooh crap,’ she said heartfelt.

‘Ooooh yessss,’ Voldemort hissed, delighted. ‘Shall I book the room next to Lucius for you?’

‘It’s not like Kneazles are even dangerous,’ Hermione grumbled.

‘The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures stated Kneazles are. They are a Class Three Threat in a classification that only reaches up to five. I’d like to point out to the entire Wizengamot that we have no idea how much more dangerous this half-breed could be,’ Voldemort taunted.

‘The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is filled with nothing but morons,’ Hermione muttered, disgruntled, remembering among others the ridiculous, phoney “trial” of Buckbeak.

‘Winning argument, Granger. You’d get my vote if you’d broaden it to include the entire Ministry.’

‘Goes without saying.’

‘True,’ he acknowledged. ‘Now let’s get off this dust-filled floor.’

While Lord Voldemort rose with ease, Hermione glanced at the snake draped around her. Nagini seemed quite comfortable and not at all inclined to move. But a quick order from him made the snake slither away before she could even mention her inability to rise with its considerable weight around her. She took his outstretched hand and he pulled her flush against him, wrapping his arms around her and sneaking his hands underneath her shirt.

‘I can’t blame Nagini for wanting to stay here,’ he whispered, caressing the skin on her back.

---

Back at Malfoy Manor, a huge debate went on. Gellert yawned loudly. The others turned their heads. ‘Are we boring you?’ asked Mei.

‘Somewhat,’ he replied, directing a wink at Albus. ‘He has my vote,’ Gellert loosely stated, before he rose and walked to the door.

‘Where do you think you are going?’ Ljudmila demanded to know. ‘We are not done here.’

‘Tom’s wards are down.’

‘And?’

‘Obviously,’ Gellert replied, rolling his eyes, ‘it means anyone can disturb our meeting. I’d rather that did not happen while you use the key, since it is clear you are going to. I’ll go downstairs and tell Draco to keep everyone away from this area for the time being.’ He turned in the doorway. ‘Good luck with that burial plan of yours,’ he winked at Albus again and swirled away.

‘Burial plan?’ Mei asked, looking at Albus questioningly.

‘You know,’ he replied.

‘Oh, Hogwarts,’ she said, enlightened. ‘You told Gellert?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you think that’s wise?’

‘Can we focus back on Hermione’s situation?’ Ljudmila inquired sternly. ‘Mei, you seem to be the only one with doubts.’

‘I don’t think the key should be used this lightly. I see why you think you can, Ljudmila, but still… the risk it poses to Hermione is tremendous. If he doesn’t…’ she shook her head.

‘He will,’ Albus replied certain.

‘Positive,’ Ljudmila added, nodding in support.

Mei raised her hands in surrender. ‘Very well, I withdraw my objections. Go ahead.’

Once more, an ancient key got placed into an invisible keyhole and turned around to form a magical doorway. But unlike before, this time, the ritual proceeded without disturbance. When the blue door was fully formed, it vanished from sight.

---

A lock clicked. Swiftly, Lord Voldemort let go of her and swirled around, glaring at the smoked outline of a door, which rapidly became more and more substantial.

‘What’s that?’ asked Hermione curiously, stepping next to him.

His eyes darted between the door and Hermione. ‘Nothing you want to find out,’ he hissed angrily, pushing her behind him and flourishing his wand at the door. Darkness surrounded it, evaporated the outline.

‘Why not? What did you do?’ asked Hermione, peeking around his tall figure.

‘Bought us some time. Now shut up and let me think.’

The sheer intensity of his speech made her comply. That and the loud crash followed by some very, very scary animalistic sounds coming from behind the darkness. Her stomach knotted and she felt a chill of fear creeping up her spine.

‘Apparating away won’t be fast enough. Disillusionment Charms won’t work. Wards won’t hold forever. Outrunning it is not an option,’ he glanced at Hermione again and shook his head. ‘They must be barking mad to go to this much length. I thought Ljudmila had more sense. This is too soon. You are not ready.’ Lord Voldemort tilted his head back and let out a deep breath.

‘Ready for what?’ asked Hermione in a tiny voice.

‘It’s,’ he halted and then laughed. He looked back at her in sheer delight. ‘You are not ready,’ he repeated exuberantly. ‘It will kill you.’ His laugh rolled around her.

‘Glad that is good news to someone,’ Hermione said dryly.

‘It’s wonderful news,’ Voldemort replied cheerfully, yanking her against him. ‘It’s the loophole I need. All I need you to do is be dead for a little while.’

‘Sure, why not?’ Hermione rolled her eyes. ‘Sounds like a brilliant plan to me.’

He sniggered. ‘I meant magically dead; I can’t really kill you, remember? That,’ he pointed over his shoulder to the slowly reappearing doorway, ‘on the other hand, can. It will find your magic wherever it is and pull you in. You need to trust me with it.’

‘Yeah,’ Hermione snarled sarcastically, ‘that worked out swell for me beforrrr-’

Hermione collapsed in his arms when his curse hit her. Quickly, he withdrew her magic out of her body and laid her on the floor. Lord Voldemort hissed and spitted without taking in breath. The concrete floor of the hearth turned into a liquid and he turned to Nagini.

‘Take her below and watch her; I’ll be back after I’ve had the pleasure of killing every council member involved in this,’ he hissed in Parseltongue, swirling around with his wand in hand. The door opened abruptly. A dash of green left Lord Voldemort’s wand immediately as he got pulled in.

---

‘What’s keeping Gellert?’ Li Mei asked, looking at the door of the bedroom. ‘Surely, he has spoken to Draco by now.’

Ljudmila smiled. ‘He probably is making a run for it.’

‘It’s coming,’ Albus warned. ‘Get in position.’

‘Already?’ Mei questioned, checking the time.

A blackened, smoked door appeared dead centre of the bedroom. With a flash, it blew open and Lord Voldemort stepped out with a vile smile on his face. ‘Not who you were expecting?’ he sneered, looking around to see them standing in a triangle shape around him. ‘And only three of you. How disappointing. I was hoping for more.’

His wand made three consecutive jabs, and the green jets burst away to their respective targets. But a silvery shield flew around the Headmaster and the Killing Curse bounced off, obliterating the mirror and wall behind it. The other Avada got dissipated by Ljudmila Volkova with a wave of her wand, illuminating the entire area in a harmless green fluorescent light. And Li Mei simply sidestepped it calmly, causing the desk and enchanted window to blast to smithereens, giving everyone a splendid view of the outside garden.

‘Not what you were expecting?’ Ljudmila mimicked sweetly. ‘You can’t kill us, since we never thought Hermione would have to travel through it. We knew you’d take her place.’

The bedroom door opened. In fury, Lord Voldemort jabbed his wand at it. Draco’s eyes flew open wide as the Killing Curse hurtled to him. Inches away from his frozen-to-the-ground body, it halted in mid-air. Swiftly, Lord Voldemort swatted Dumbledore’s Avada away from his body.

‘Not fast enough, old man,’ he taunted; while he hauled his at Draco’s aimed Avada back as if he were on a fishing expedition. Only the fish re-entered the fishing-pole as if it had never existed.

Draco’s jaw dropped. He’d been trying to undo a spell of his casting for ages now. The only thing he had achieved was a thoroughly melted vase. And all this time, the only man who knew how to do it had been living in his bloody house! He gritted his teeth. But how was he going to get the Dark Lord to...?

Aunt Bella!

‘Draco?’

He’d ask aunt Bella for help this evening. Ha! Granger wouldn’t know what hit her when he beat her.

‘Draco?’ Dumbledore repeated more forcefully, causing the blond to finally pay attention. ‘Didn’t Gellert tell you to stay downstairs?’

Gellert? As in Grindelwald? Just his luck; of course, he had to be around here somewhere, too. The man was always hitting on him. Ugh.

‘No,’ Draco replied shortly. ‘I haven’t seen him.’

Dumbledore looked positively alarmed. ‘Thank you, Draco, you’re excused.’

Draco stood in the doorway for another second, baffled. But then, he regained his senses and got the hell out of there, considering the company in that room. Though, he was mumbling resentful about whose house it was on his way down the stairs.

‘I thought Gellert said he left to tell Draco to stay below?’ Ljudmila spoke to Albus, confused.

‘He did,’ Dumbledore said thoughtfully. ‘Hell no!’

Quickly, he swirled around and flipped his wand at the dead body underneath the sheet. Nothing happened. He paced to it, lifted the sheet and checked Severus’s front pocket and the floor around him. Sighing, he looked up. ‘Gellert has nicked his wand. He’s armed again.’

‘How?’

‘Must have been some time after Severus died; he was seated next to him on the ground,’ Albus said, annoyed.

‘But there is no point to it,’ Li Mei said, flabbergasted. ‘Nicking a wand from a dead body won’t do it. He might as well snap a twig from a tree for all the good it will do him. The enchantments of Nurmengard only allow for a wand to work if it is handed voluntarily to a prisoner.’

Lord Voldemort folded his arms over each other, a blank expression on his face.

‘Gellert is an expert in wandlore; he would know this,’ Albus muttered. ‘Ljudmila?’ Albus turned to the person with the most knowledge of wandlore in the room.

She shrugged. ‘Theoretically, Mei is right. The core of the wand won’t amplify his magic at all, unless…’ she paused, ‘they were somehow related?’

‘No,’ Albus said. ‘The Princes and Grindelwalds’ bloodlines do not coincide anywhere.’

‘Gellert’s mother’s side?’

Albus considered it, but quickly shook his head. ‘No, the Princes never left England and Brunhilde’s ancestors are all from continental Europe.’

‘Hmmm,’ Ljudmila contemplated. ‘The only other thing I can think of that may cause that wand to work for him is if the core and wood used are quite similar to his original wand.’

‘Severus’s consisted of a doe’s tail hair and Gellert’s had the blood of a Chimera inside. It’s not even close,’ Albus replied.

‘Then, it is useless to him,’ Ljudmila said, slightly relieved.

Lord Voldemort snorted. ‘Sure, he went to all the trouble just to hang it on his wall,’ he mocked.

Albus stared at him. ‘You’re right. There must be a method for him to get that wand operational or he wouldn’t have taken it.’

‘And the three of you just let him walk out the door with it,’ Voldemort sneered. ‘I’d applaud his ingenuity if I valued the competition he had. But Gellert’s actions are irrelevant. Let’s focus back on the issue I came for, since it seems we’ve reached a stalemate,’ Lord Voldemort continued quietly. ‘Apparently, Article Two is still very much active for all of us.’ The annoyance he felt seeped through his words. It would have been so delightful to get rid of these three light morons.

‘We are not here to kill you,’ Ljudmila said, stepping toward him. ‘But you are, however, reminded that an apprenticeship is NOT an imprisonment.’

He smirked at her. ‘Pray tell, where in the rules does it say it isn’t?’

‘Where it says that the choice of path is up to the apprentice. By keeping Hermione away from her normal environment, you are taking the choice away from her; I will not stand for it. The next doorway I open will be aimed at you if you do not release her,’ Volkova threatened.

‘I see,’ Voldemort replied slowly, taking a step toward her. ‘Are you going to target Nathaira next? Because I don’t see Lovegood going anywhere, too.’

‘Luna can leave if she wants to,’ Li Mei interfered. ‘Actually, I think it would have Sharasvati’s preference if she did. From what I hear, Luna is driving her crazy.’

The corner of his mouth curled up. It was similar to his intelligence on the situation in India. For a brief second, Lord Voldemort and Li Mei shared a glance of amusement. But everything turned back to normal quickly when Albus spoke up. ‘Luna’s situation is not in question. Hermione’s is.’

Voldemort turned his head to the man condescendingly.

‘I think Lovegood’s situation is a good example to illustrate my choice to keep Hermione with me. Nathaira is sailing traitorous waters, facing elimination, because Lovegood is not accepting any guidance. If I’d let Hermione come and go at her leisure before she was adequately capable of Occlumency, her mind would not have been able to keep any and all details of my organisation from you or anyone else capable of some Legilimency in your Fowl Run. It would have been the end of her candidacy as Keeper, which could be considered negligence on my part, and as such, I would be in the same situation as Nathaira. Coincidence? I think not,’ he snarled, glancing from Albus to Mei in clear suspicion, before he turned back to Ljudmila, who had raised her eyebrows at this.

Knowing Ljudmila Volkova’s first priority was the stability and continuation of the Council, he further explained things primarily for her ears.

‘As you know Occlumency is not easily taught, but Hermione passed my test and would have been on her way to the Weasleys, once I had taken the necessary precautions, had I not been interrupted by two idiots apparating in uninvited. I’d also liked to remember everyone in this room that once Hogwarts next school year starts, Hermione will be at a significant disadvantage with respect to the other candidates, since I can’t come and go there if required. I, therefore, have to put a lot more speed and time into her training during this holiday, which would not be necessary had I had full access to her the entire year. And I would sincerely appreciate it if her apprenticeship was no longer used as a weapon against me, or I will retaliate accordingly – all, of course, in order to preserve the fabulous functioning of the Council.’ The latter came out quite sarcastic.

‘That is your prerogative,’ Volkova replied, unfazed.

‘As it is mine if Draco is used in a similar matter,’ Albus added swiftly.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop significantly.

‘Since we clearly understand each other, I suggest you, kindly, remove yourself from this place or I will have to make an uninvited visit to a red-haired overcrowded shack,’ Voldemort sneered. He turned away. ‘And do take your garbage with you,’ he gestured to Severus. ‘Narcissa won’t appreciate it if his grease leaks through the ceiling and ruins her mansion irreparably.’

‘Well, that was interesting,’ Ljudmila said after the Dark Lord had left.

‘Which part?’ asked Mei.

‘Not Mudblood or Granger, but Hermione,’ she replied, glancing with a small smile to Dumbledore. ‘He called her Hermione in front of us.’

‘I noticed,’ Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes. ‘It must have slipped out on his end.’

Volkova chuckled. ‘Seems things are not going as bad as you thought they were, Albus.’

‘Not if you take the job I offered you,’ Albus retorted immediately.

Li Mei glanced at the dead body underneath the sheet. ‘Some offer.’

‘Well, I do love a challenge and I never held a cursed position before,’ Volkova said, rubbing her hands cheerfully.

‘Ljudmila, you can’t possibly consider this at your age,’ said Li, shocked.

‘Are you saying two-hundred-and-sixty-one is too old to teach, Mei?’

‘I am talking about the curse,’ Mei hissed. ‘We’re already down one light Keeper. We don’t need to lose another.’

‘Gah,’ Ljudmila gave her a disparaging wave. ‘I am too old to worry about how I am going to die. According to statistics, I should have keeled over decades ago. Besides, Albus is right. All three remaining candidates attend Hogwarts, some additional Keeper supervision and security there won’t be a luxury.’

‘So you’ll do it?’ Albus asked hopefully.

‘Yes.’

---

Gleefully, Gellert stroked the wand in his hand. ‘Now, you and me need to have a little chat,’ he spoke ever so quietly. ‘Your true master is dead and you would be buried alive along with him had I not rescued you from such dreaded fate. Your refusal to work for me is simply unacceptable and quite frankly rather ungrateful. I know this is a rocky start and we have ample time to get acquainted before Albus figures out I took you; but I am sure once you get to know me, we will get along wonderfully.’

He twirled around in his cell, showing the view through the barred windows at the wand. ‘This, my dearest, is Nurmengard – the greatest prison of all, if I say so myself. No dementors, dragons, or other silly creatures needed to keep the prisoners in; it’s all done magically. My magic to be exact.’ He laughed. ‘You see I constructed this prison a long, long time ago. Did a fine job at it too. Nobody has ever escaped here.’

‘Tsk, tsk, tsk,’ he clicked his tongue. ‘There is no need to question my statements.’ He shook his head at the wand. ‘I was not responsible for the additional measly protections they placed on the centre tower to keep me in. Between you and me, it’s even more pathetic than Azkaban’s enchantments. But we won’t tell the British that, they are cocky enough as it is.’

He looked outside contemplatively. ‘It’s almost a shame,’ he muttered, taking in the view one last time, while he pushed the wand into a small opening in the mortar between the bricks. ‘But I suppose it is all “For The Greater Good”,’ he quoted the sign above the prison’s entrance, smirking.

He closed his eyes and focused on the wand in his left hand, placing his right against the stone wall. ‘Complete the circle,’ he muttered to the magic inside the wall. ‘You are a part of me. Complete it. Make this wand mine.’

Come on.

After a long time, a spark ignited, travelling from wall to wand to hand and on. ‘YES!’ he shouted exhilarated, pulling out the wand and flourishing it above his head. ‘Annihilare Nurmengard!’ he cast. He spread his arms wide. ‘Come to papa!’

Fiery sparks erupted all over the buildings of the prison. Soon, the walls almost appeared on fire as magic swirled through the air, circling the centre tower as it waited in line to be accepted back to its origin via the wand that brandished around above Gellert Grindelwald’s head. The wand became more his as every bit of his magic ran through it to return to him, while his prison slowly disintegrated. Guards yelled warnings to each other and ran for it; they disapparated wherever there was an option available. Every magical lock lost its properties. Prisoners cheered and broke free. Chaos was everywhere. The outer walls of the top of the centre tower crumbled due to the force exhibited to it. And Grindelwald became very visible to everyone, standing there in the middle of all the destruction.

Guards on brooms were airborne, on their way to attack his position. He changed the angle of his wand-movements and his magic formed a dome around him, impenetrable. He could feel the insignificance of their casting against it and laughed wildly.

‘Kill him!’ the order boomed through the air.

Crap!

He disapparated and apparated several floors lower to continue his magic’s recovery. The building came down on top of him as the Killing Curses broke through his magic and impacted on the walls. But he merely levitated the individual bricks and sent them after his attackers. They had to fly like professionals, and it was better to witness than any Quidditch match he had ever seen – more Bludgers. He roared with delight, and finally, he could sense it coming. The end. He gave that final bit of his magic one last assignment; ‘Flagrate!’ he cast and disapparated.

Everyone within radius felt the earth shaking and the air thundering when Nurmengard prison tumbled down into ruins. Above the smoked rubble, a fiery message lit up the sky.

Round Three, Albus!

---

‘I am not doing it,’ Ron said, determined, tossing a stone in the pond, which made several of the frogs honk in annoyance. ‘I don’t care if mum’s having a fit.’

Harry and Ginny shared a look. It was quite telling what they thought of Ron’s chances. The three of them were in the Burrow’s garden, sitting at the tables they had just set for lunch, as Mrs Weasley had asked them to.

‘I am not,’ Ron repeated, glaring at them both. ‘So, my hair is a bit longer. It’s not like Bill’s is- Hermione!’ he shouted, excited, jumping to his feet, waving his hand in the air abundantly.

Harry and Ginny turned their heads immediately, and sure enough, behind the overgrown hedges, struggling to get through the orchard with her trunk, the bushy-haired witch waved back in the distance, smiling broadly. Underneath her shirt, the pendant on her necklace had turned onyx-like black.

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The Apprentice