Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 21
- 22
- 23
The Apprentice

This chapter is dedicated to my new partner in crime, Serpent-In-Red.

Chapter Twenty-Two

It felt surreal to her; surreal and illusory to be walking here, in the Weasleys’ garden, towards her friends, when mere moments ago Lord Voldemort himself had dropped her off just outside the Order Wards. So much had happened during these last couple of weeks. Hermione knew she should be happy to be back. She had expected herself to be happy to be back. She tried desperately to be happy to be back, because she wanted so much to be happy to be back. But mostly she felt out of place – like she no longer belonged here, an outsider looking in. Her chest hosted a strange uncomfortable void where normally her emotions lie. So, she put up a brave, smiling front and waved to Harry, Ron and Ginny.

But she quickly stopped waving when her levitated trunk demanded all her attention by crashing down in the overgrown orchard. It was a struggle to levitate her trunk due to the height and distance she had to keep it in the air and it didn’t help that she had a hard time finding a path to walk through without getting entangled, add upon that her lack of attention caused by the waving and it was all gravity needed to be victorious.

‘You are not taking that bag with you,’ Hermione grumbled underneath her breath, remembering how Lord Voldemort had confiscated her beaded bag and pushed her Hogwarts’ trunk in her hands instead.

Sure, her rational mind knew Kingsley, and especially, Tonks had had a good look at her bag, and that she really couldn’t take it with her to the Weasleys. But even when he made sense, he had this deliberate method of saying things in a certain tone and with an explicit demeanour that rubbed her hairs the wrong way and made her want to scream and lash out in frustrated rage. She whisked her wand at her trunk, but it only twitched between the green stuff it was stuck in. That did not do wonders for her temper or for her feelings towards a certain individual.

‘Overbearing, controlling, obnoxious, irritating-’ Hermione mumbled the rest of her descriptive terms in quite an incomprehensible speech, while she glowered at her heavy trunk and its surroundings. ‘No, don’t take the light bag, carry the heavy trunk, which I filled with tons and tons of books; I want you to spend the whole two weeks in getting to the house, because the simple task of lawn mowing is too much work for a bunch of wizards.’

She looked in the direction of the house and noted her friends were on their way to the hedge, but they had not reached the wildness of this field yet. She gave them a distracted wave and yanked her trunk forward.

Too much physical exercise!

There had to be a better method. She sighed and remembered this one jinx she’d read in the first chapter of “Stretching Magical Boundaries, The Dark Arts”. The deadly jinx had disgusted her. However, right now, it would be perfect to finish the job; very illegal but perfect. Quickly, her eyes scanned the area. No adults in sight. And she would use it for a good cause after all. No harm, no foul. Surely, she could try it out?

Her eyes found her friends; they wouldn’t know any better. Nobody would be the wiser. She tripped on a hidden branch and nearly fell flat on her face. It was the last straw, literally.

‘WAIT!’ she shouted, holding up her hand to Harry, Ron and Ginny.

They stopped moving, surprised.

Hermione concentrated, focussing intensely on the exact whereabouts she wanted the dark jinx to do his work. ‘Secare Oscuro!’ she cast, jabbing her wand in an arc as if she wielded a scythe.

A black jet sliced through the grass and everything else that grew there inches above the ground. As it passed, all that was green rotted, blackened, and turned to ashes before showering down on the perfectly mowed grass underneath. The spell ended right where she had wanted it to. Triumphantly, Hermione grabbed the handle of her trunk and began walking easily.

‘Wow,’ Ron said, looking over the hedge amazed, while Harry wiggled through the narrow opening. ‘Dad’s never been able to trim it this neatly.’

Perhaps if he wouldn’t wait for it to turn into a jungle first, he could.

Crack!

The apparation noise behind her made Hermione turn around and Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. Professor Dumbledore stood there, wand drawn, in what seemed like full combat mode. Within a split-second, he had taken in the entire environment before resting his blue eyes on Hermione. She turned her head away and sighed.

Apparently, someone was the wiser.

‘Something wrong?’ asked Harry, whipping out his wand, while the others joined him.

But Dumbledore pocketed his wand and shook his head in denial, causing everyone to ease up again.

‘Professor, did you forget something?’ Hermione said quickly, willing him to understand that he had to be her source of transport over here.

She needn’t worry. Albus Dumbledore never had been slow on the uptake. ‘No, the meeting I thought I had to attend has been postponed, so we can have that talk together now instead of tonight.’

Hermione nodded as if she had any idea to what the hell he was referring to. She hoped it wasn’t about her use of the Dark Arts.

‘Is the broom shed available to us?’ Dumbledore asked Ginny and Ron.

The Weasleys looked confused, while Harry grinned and nodded Hermione in her side joyfully. He’d already had his conversation with Dumbledore there.

‘I suppose,’ Ron said, clearly thinking Dumbledore had lost it.

‘But there is no room and it’s a mess,’ Ginny objected.

‘Not a problem,’ Dumbledore replied lightly, waving his wand through the air.

It made Hermione aware of his rotted wandhand again; something she hadn’t had the time to ask him about before, because so many things had been happening simultaneously. But now she could.

‘What happened to your hand, Professor?’

Dumbledore saw four pair of eyes watching him curiously and he chuckled. ‘You lot never give up, do you? I will tell you, someday, but not now. It’s a long and exciting tale. I wish to do it justice and we do not have that kind of time right now,’ he said, eyeing each and every one of them in turn with kindness. ‘Ah, Molly!’ Dumbledore cheered. ‘Good to see you, too.’

They all turned and saw Molly rushing toward them. ‘Albus, you finally brought her,’ she said, watching fondly in Hermione’s direction before reporting the latest news. ‘The Prophet stated the German Minister has resigned her position, so I thought you would still be there to talk to her successor.’

‘No, I got back this morning. Figured I had enough time between meetings to bring Hermione over.’

‘They still haven’t apprehended Grindelwald?’ asked Molly, concerned.

‘I am afraid not. They have no idea where he is,’ Dumbledore said gravely. ‘And some of the other escaped prisoners are currently making a mess in France. Russia has closed their magical borders and the Italian Minister is refusing to speak with anyone. The entire continent is in uproar. I fear our problem here won’t be seen as much of a priority anymore.’

It was silent for a moment after that. But then, Molly intervened, hugging Hermione to her chest. ‘Well at least you are here now,’ Molly said, as if that made everything alright again. ‘You’re just in time for lunch, dear. Are you staying too, Albus?’

‘No, I can’t stay and I have to talk to Hermione in private first if that’s not too much of an inconvenience for you?’

‘No, no,’ Molly replied, patting Hermione on her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, dear, there is enough to go around and I’ll make sure they don’t eat up your share.’

‘Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,’ Hermione said, while the others eyed her grinning, knowing Mrs. Weasley’s idea of a normal portion was usually a mountain of food.

‘Would you please accompany me, Hermione?’ asked Dumbledore, and he held out his arm to the run-down stone outhouse off the garden. ‘Excuse us, Molly?’

‘Naturally, Albus. Ron, take Hermione’s trunk to Ginny’s bedroom, please.’

‘I’ll take care of it, Molly,’ Albus intervened, whipping his wand and banishing Hermione’s trunk out of everyone’s reach. ‘Miss Granger needs her school supplies for our meeting about her future.’

Ron followed them with curious eyes, as Hermione and Dumbledore walked to the shed together. ‘Albus, you can use one of the bedrooms!’ Molly called out after them.

‘This is fine!’ he replied casually.

Molly shrugged and turned to the others. ‘Come on, you all, lunch is ready. And you definitely need some extra pounds on you,’ she added, eyeing Harry’s skinny figure disapprovingly.

‘What do you think he wants to talk about with Hermione?’ Ron whispered to Harry, as they followed Mrs Weasley back to the tables where Fleur was busy putting the food on.

Harry shrugged. ‘Ask her later.’

‘Maybe it’s about her N.E.W.T. classes,’ Ginny suggested, her nose wrinkling in the direction of where Fleur stood.

‘Then, why talk to her alone about it. It’s not a big secret she’s got all her O.W.L.s. And it is McGonagall’s job to do career advice.’

‘I am just glad she’s finally here,’ Harry said, sounding relieved.

‘Yeah,’ Ron replied slowly, but he couldn’t let it go. ‘He also spoke to you alone in that shed.’ It came out a bit accusatory and he couldn’t keep some of his envy from seeping through his voice.

‘Fine,’ Ginny snapped. ‘Go over there and wait, maybe Dumbledore will talk to you alone among all the spiders too.’

Ron turned pale and she laughed loudly.

---

‘They did what!’ Scrimgeour shouted furiously, slamming his hands on his desk, his head red as if it was on the verge of exploding.

The new Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Gawain Robards, shuffled on his feet. It wasn’t his fault the French and the Germans had recalled every Auror back to their country after the fall of Nurmengard. He could even understand their reasoning. They had a huge clean up to do over there. All those dark wizards and witches on the run, not to mention they had not captured the main menace, Gellert Grindelwald. And when they did catch a fugitive, they had huge problems figuring out where to keep them since the largest prison was destroyed. He could see why He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a hypothetical issue to them.

‘I offered them Azkaban,’ Scrimgeour roared, tossing his hands in the air before he started pacing to and fro. ‘They filled every last empty cell we had over there, and now, they repay us like this! If it wasn’t for us, they’d still be speaking German over there!’

Robards considered that the Germans probably still did, but eh, no need to point it out to a minister who was having a nervous breakdown.

Scrimgeour halted in front of Robards and he waved his finger at him. ‘You tell Alain and Tabitha, I expect those Aurors to return immediately.’

‘And what if they tell me they need the manpower themselves?’

‘Well, well, that’s just unacceptable,’ huffed Rufus. ‘We had a deal.’

‘Is there anything I can offer them in return?’ Robards tried.

‘Offer them? Offer them! We already gave them everything! Tell them I’ll personally free their prisoners from Azkaban and deliver them on their families’ doorstep if they don’t send those Aurors back!’

Robards scratched his neck, staring at the ugly carpet. He’d never noticed before the Minister’s Office had such a hideous floor-covering.

‘Withdrawing their support, and of course, Dumbledore is continuously going over to support them. Yes, them he does help,’ Scrimgeour muttered resentfully, shaking his head, while he began pacing again. ‘Bloody foreigners. Traitors, they are all greedy traitors, who do nothing but take and take and take. And when it’s time to give, they run tail.’

‘Eleanor can’t staff the roster for next week fully, Rufus. I need to know what you want to do about our personnel problems now,’ Robards interrupted matter-of-factly.

Scrimgeour turned and faced him. For a moment, Robards wondered whether he was going to get an intelligent answer or be cursed from the room. Rufus took a deep breath and exhaled.

‘So sorry, Gawain, none of this is your fault, I shouldn’t lay my frustration on your plate,’ he apologised. ‘How bad is the situation in the Auror Department?’

‘We’ve lost twenty-eight percent of our active personnel with the loss of the French and German Aurors,’ Gawain replied.

‘Twenty-eight percent!’ Rufus yelled, before calming himself down and working the problem.

‘What if we call those in the last year of the Academy to active duty?’

‘Rufus, really,’ Gawain replied doubtfully. ‘They have zero experience. The seasoned warriors I have left are already swamped, trying to support the recently graduated. I can’t put undergraduates on their desks as well. They’d do nothing but baby-sit, and it will get them all killed.’

‘Desperate times call for desperate measures, Gawain.’

‘I already checked the option, Rufus. Even if we pull every student out of the Academy right now, it will not be enough to fill the gap left behind by the real Aurors who left or died.’

‘So, you’re saying we’re a sitting duck.’

Gawain tilted his head. ‘That’s basically it. I need real Aurors, Rufus. I don’t care where you get them from, but I need them, fast, or we’ll be run over by him and his Death Eaters in a heartbeat.’

Scrimgeour slumped down against his desk. ‘I don’t know where to get them from, Gawain. I really don’t know.’

‘What about Canada and the States?’

‘Also busy with Grindelwald and McFerlon, of course,’ Rufus grunted, annoyed.

‘They still believe Mel caused that devastating earthquake?’

Despite Rufus Scrimgeour’s loud, frustrated “yes”, Yaxley still heard the soft ringing. His alarm went off, which meant someone was on their way to the bathroom, too. In the distance, he heard the footsteps approaching in the corridor. Quickly, he removed his listening device from the ceiling and pocketed it. He flushed the loo and greeted his entering co-worker courteously, while he washed his hands. With a broad smile on his face, he went back to work. He’d heard enough. This was most fortunate news. The Dark Lord would be pleased, very pleased.

---

Gellert moved his head from side to side, watching his profile at both angles in the huge mirror he had conjured. ‘Eww,’ he shivered, wrinkling his nose. ‘It seems we have our work cut out for us,’ he said affectionately to his new wand. ‘We need more light though. I can’t believe Nathaira likes living in this dump.’

He glanced around the damp, empty cave and shook his head. With an elaborate flourish of his wand, a bright ball appeared at the top of the cave. A sideway flip and the ball began burning like a second sun, heating and lighting the area. Gellert looked back in the mirror and rolled the wand between his hands. ‘Natural light is always best to examine oneself in,’ he continued out loud. ‘Now, let’s fix this hideous disaster.’

A considerable amount of time passed.

Hours and hours later, Gellert twirled in front of the mirror, making very appreciative noises at his reflection. His new full set of white teeth gave of a charming smile; his hair was cut at shoulder length and cascaded down in lovely curls. He’d fixed the sunken impression his grey-blue eyes had got, and his overall physic had gained a newfound vitality, which was enhanced by the deep blue, silk dressrobes that whirled flattering around him as he made another twirl in front of the mirror.

He wore them open to show off his lean body in the skintight, white Kashmir poloneck and the black leather pants, which seemed moulded around him. A pair of deep blue, high-heeled, knee-high, dragonskin boots graced his feet, matching the colour of his robes precisely. The long silver chain around his neck carried a sapphire medallion with the sign of the Deathly Hallows engraved in the priceless stone. Gellert felt it completed his stylish outfit to perfection.

But his hair colour? His hand rubbed his smooth chin thoughtfully. Grey was so boring and common. He flicked his wand and wrinkled his nose. Red did not suit him at all. He tried all kind of colours.

‘Oh my,’ said Sharasvati Nathaira impressed, as she walked in.

‘Do you like it?’ asked Gellert. He turned to her and flicked imaginary specks of lint of the shoulders of his dressrobes before twirling around and making a little bow at the end of it.

‘Very spiffy,’ she answered. ‘Though that colour hair is…’ she gestured with her hand in the air, searching for the right word, ‘not you,’ she settled for.

Gellert turned back to the mirror and watched his dark-brown curls, nodding. ‘Back to blond, I suppose.’ He swished his wand and the colour from his youth returned.

‘Much better,’ Sharasvati commented, shrugging out of her outer robe and sending it to the wardrobe hidden behind the solid rock of the wall with an absentminded flick of her wand. ‘Why are you here, Gellert?’

‘Perhaps those wrinkles need doing?’ Gellert trailed off, watching his face doubtfully, while trying to flatten his skin with his hand. He ignored her question completely, hoping it would go away.

‘Nah,’ Sharasvati replied, waving dismissively with her hand, while she slouched into her couch. ‘Those spells always give off a mask-like expression. I’ve yet to see someone who looks naturally after they had that done.’

‘Good point. Besides, I am dazzling enough as it is,’ Gellert replied smugly, sending his brand-new reflection a hand kiss.

Nathaira rolled her eyes. ‘As long as you don’t sparkle.’

‘Sparkle?’

‘Never mind,’ she dismissed. Her wand flashed, sending a beam of ice to the warm ball of sunlight that heated the area. Instantly, the cold returned and the light dimmed. A second whip and his full length mirror disintegrated violently.

‘Aww…’ Gellert let out, holding both hands to his chest as if it cost him dearly to see it destroyed.

‘Now that you’re done with your extreme makeover, kindly be on your way again,’ Sharasvati ordered, gesturing to the cave’s door. ‘You’re obviously under the mistaken impression you are welcome to hide out here.’

‘Oh, come on, Nathaira, darling, surely you can find accommodations for one lonely wizard for a little while in this enormous place?’ Gellert suggested, holding his arms wide to show off the spaciousness of the cave.

‘The amount of chambers I got is irrelevant,’ she replied coldly. ‘What is relevant is your current “hot” status. Your face is on the front page of every bleeding newspaper on the planet. The bounties that several governments have offered for you are ridiculously large. I don’t want every Auror, Unspeakable, or fortune-seeker on the planet to knock on my door in order to apprehend you. I like my solitude.’

‘Ah, yes, your solitude,’ Gellert said, strolling to the opposite couch with a thoughtful expression. ‘But how much longer are you going to enjoy your solitude if Lovegood keeps denying your guidance?’ He sat down, crossing his legs and spreading his arms out wide over the backrest. ‘How long till Li Mei asks the Council for your head?’ He sent her a questioning smile. ‘Riddle hasn’t come through for you yet, has he?”

Nathaira folded her arms over each other and narrowed her eyes. ‘What are you offering?’ she responded suspiciously.

‘How long can I stay?’

‘Depends on what you’ve got for me.’

‘Riddle’s alterations to the Nightmare Curse,’ Gellert replied crafty.

‘You know what they are?’ Nathaira replied disbelievingly.

‘No, but I know how you can persuade him to hand them over without any cost to you.’

Nathaira’s mouth curled up. ‘One week.’

‘One month.’

‘Not a chance.’

‘Fine,’ Gellert said, rising from the couch. ‘I look forward to attend your funeral.’ He walked away.

‘Wait!’

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned. Nathaira rose from the couch and stalked to him. ‘One month if I think your idea is viable,’ she held out her hand.

Gellert laughed. ‘Please, Sharasvati, don’t insult my intelligence with word tricks. You can easily say you don’t think it is viable and use my suggestion later anyway. One month if my idea gets you the curse.’

‘One month if your idea gets me the alterations to the curse and if you stay out of sight.’

‘Deal.’

‘Deal.’

Magic swirled around their clasped hands, sealing the deal. ‘Now this is what you need to do,’ Gellert started mischievously.

---
- 21
- 22
- 23
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Apprentice