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Two Steps From Hell	By : Ssserpensssotia Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 30375 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. No profit is being made. No copyright infringement is intended. Everything Harry Potter related belongs to J.K.Rowling.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
a/n Hi!
I'm done with a new chapter, and I cannot wait to hear your opinion. I'm a sucker for your thoughts, and you know it. :)
Thank you so so much for the awesome feedback. I go through your thoughts and I get ideas that give the twists and turns to the story. I know how I want to end the story, but in between, I can always try different things.
I could wrap it up in 4-5 chapters, but I don't want to. I'll make it long XD
And Umbridge...Ahaha...Thank you! I couldn't let her sit on the bench. XD
I won't leave any loose ends, so no worries. Everyone will be given attention. I have so many POVs that chapters are slow, but I feel that if I remove the multiple POVs, the story would lose a lot.
Sherlocked17- thank you! Ginny and Lucius…mmm…Not my thing, as I don’t like Ginny- and I love Lucius- and I don’t think I’ll be able to write smut with her. However, you gave me an idea what to do with her. Smiles. Yes, Hermione is hooked properly now. :) Voldemort is a good fisher ;))
Ice Empress- You blew me away! Thank you so so much! I just love your analysis! I am careful with violence, as I don’t honestly believe that Voldemort would fight like a Muggle, but I don’t think he and Hermione would be able to be together without it.
M0nt- Yay! Thank you so much! Yeah, I know that the first chapters are hard to comb through, but I cannot have it any other way. I could make Hermione and Voldemort fall in love when they first meet, but it would be so…gah..We need drama, we need pain, we need emotions! Right? And both Voldemort and Hermione are quite violent and emotional (well, Voldemort not, but he can adjust ;p).
Anggea- thank you! Hope you guys will enjoy the new chapter!
I hope you'll enjoy my take on the court hearing XD
Beta: Serpent In Red
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Two Steps From Hell
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Horcrux Mine
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Chapter Twenty Three
The Weasleys …
The Weasleys were to show them all what a world ruled by insanely powerful and talented maniacs really looked like. It could happen to anyone now.
Lucius Malfoy was radiating happiness as he watched Dolores question that idiot Weasley girl, and he couldn't really blame him. If that was the defence, then he was the new Minister.
He would sell his soul to have such a career like Lucius. It had always been Malfoy who made him squirm in his seat or whose penetrating gaze he couldn't hold long, and he hated him for that. He hated that young, handsome, rich, successful, and talented blond wizard whose white teeth were now revealed in a pleased smile. He had not only power, he had women also. Malfoy had everything he didn't have anymore.
Malfoy had been on the right side all along. Sneaky, slippery snake.
Tearing his gaze from Malfoy and directing it at the figure that was leaning into the chair—Lord Voldemort—who was looking directly at him now, Cornelius Fudge shivered in fear before slowly bowing his head in respect.
He was afraid. If Malfoy made him feel like nobody sometimes, then Lord Voldemort simply horrified him. Lucius would be gone one day, and a new Minister would take his place. Lord Voldemort, however, was now forever, immortal, and there would be no other power but him.
The Dark Lord could do what he wanted as not one dared to challenge him.
Even Potter—who didn't look very normal—was sitting here, dressed in Slytherin colors and with Malfoy Junior as his company.
For a second, he thought he saw a flashback, and instead of Draco and Harry, there were Lucius and Bartemius. Barty Crouch Junior had been Lucius's good friend, and as he watched Potter suddenly laugh again at something Dolores asked, Fudge wanted to shake his head.
There were no normal people surrounding the Dark Lord.
xxx
Radix-Stem-Apex.
The basic rule for building Dark Arts spells could not be ignored when creating the rectangular rune for the Reflecting Mirror Charm.
He had cast the charm and raised the invisible wards as one could not be too paranoid.
Especially when dealing with filth like Weasleys.
While he didn't hate Arthur as much as Lucius did, it was so pleasurable to feel this power, to know that they now decided who would go to Azkaban and who would not, that Rabastan Lestrange could not say "no" to destroying a bunch of blood-traitors.
He had sat here, on the same spot as the Weasel bitch, shackled to the chair and forced to listen to Crouch's speech telling him he would spend the rest of his life in Azkaban just seventeen years ago.
Considering he'd spent the thirteen of them in Azkaban and then three years out of law and normal life, he really loved his power now.
Rabastan smiled as he heard Potter laugh and put the controlled protocol away.
The wording in absolutely all documents had to be exact and precise—like the Dark Lord demanded—and all the court-related documents were now ready.
They—Lucius—could press new charges only when the documents had been approved by his Master.
It wasn't his business why his Lord wanted such exact wording.
His Lord was enjoying the show, leaning back in his regal-looking leather chair and drinking wine.
Rabastan would love to drink some wine, too, but instead he wet his lips with grape juice as he could not drink alcohol now. He wasn't Potter, and he couldn't allow himself to behave like a pig—he had his flaws—now.
Had Potter really no brains left?
The boy was now making a thin line of light-purple powder on the skirting of the seat between him and Draco, and Rabastan leaned forward to watch his Lord's reaction.
The Dark Lord was laughing silently, his dark-green clad shoulders shaking slightly, as he watched Potter take out a thin tube before loudly snorting the whole line in one go.
Rabastan watched with interest as Potter gathered the crumbs with a wetted finger and rubbed it into his gums.
Idiot.
One did not rub Euphoria into the gums.
It made them itch for at least a day.
Rabastan wasn't a junky, but he liked to relax.
Thirteen years he lived in horror, and now his time had come.
"Where is my Magic Cola? What kind of theatre is this?"
Rabastan had to hold a fist before his mouth to not laugh out loud as he watched Potter wave around with his hands, calling for waiters.
"What do you mean "calm down"? I am calm. Like a fucking iceberg."
Draco had been trying to calm the junky down, but it looked like Potter was too high to care about anything.
"Mister Potter, would you be so kind and remain silent during the process? That is, if you're capable."
Lucius addressed the Boy Wonder and Rabastan watched the Mudblood—Hermione—shake her head and purse her lips at Potter who was now lighting a cigarette.
"Whoa, no stress. All good. I'm silent like a grave."
Potter was smoking openly, and Rabastan raised his wand to stop the smoke from coming over to them. Even though he had cast the wards around them, he couldn't let anyone know.
He wasn't paranoid.
He was cautious.
If his Lord still hadn't said anything and just nodded at Lucius to continue, then who was he to tell Potter where to smoke and where not?
He was a wizard and he could take care of himself.
"Were you forced to pay for the services that Miss Weasley provided, Mister Mcmillan?"
Rabastan nodded at the question that Umbridge—the defence attorney!—had just asked their main witness, and he smiled when he remembered how he laughed with Malfoy when they came up with the plan.
It was such a good joke.
"Yes, Madam Umbridge."
This bitch simply did not learn. She could just hold her trap closed, but he knew she'd open it any minute.
Dolores Umbridge understood the language of Crucio only.
And Rabastan spoke it fluently.
"It's Madam Attorney Umbridge, Mister Mcmillan. Hem hem."
What did he say?
He saw Lucius wrinkle his nose, and he thought he heard his Lord sigh, but before he could understand if his Lord really did sigh heavily or was it his hearing, Potter had to open his mouth and share with the rest.
"My eleventh finger is a bigger attorney then you will ever be, and he still hadn't won any hearings against my hand."
Rabastan had to say the junky was funny even if he still hated him.
Potter was the reason his Master was delayed and he himself had spent a part of his life with dementors and four walls.
"Mister Potter, would you like to leave now?"
How Lucius had the patience to deal with him, Rabastan did not know. He guessed it could be related to the fact that Lucius did not spend any time in Azkaban the first time, like he should have done.
"Me? Merlin forbid, I am here to testify, Mister Malfoy. I will wait patiently."
Yes, Potter was the defence's witness, and he was picked by that loony girl's father—Xenophilius Lovegood—who was attempting to help the Weasleys from the press side—it was such a joke, but it was funny to see them try.
Rita Skeeter was helping their prosecutor—Yaxley—and Rabastan had to agree she was much better.
"Then do so."
Draco looked really uncomfortable with all the attention, and Rabastan saw him take out his wand.
Potter opened his mouth already to probably say something to which Lucius would have to react when Rabastan heard the voice of his Master.
"Harry."
The single word held enough warning in it for Potter to close his mouth. Dramatically holding a hand over his lips, he immediately sat down with his back straight.
Fucking clown.
He was an example for those who wanted to lose themselves, to escape from reality.
While Rabastan had to agree he wasn't the sanest of the bunch—he even went to the Mind Healer—he wasn't anywhere near the level of craziness that Potter was displaying.
He watched Umbridge trying to destroy Potter with her imitation of a basilisk before a cough from Lucius made her move on with the questions.
"Mister Mcmillan, how do you feel now when you know of the actions of the Weasleys?"
Yaxley could sit back and draw paintings as it looked like Umbridge would do all the work for him.
Rabastan didn't know what kind of idiot asked to have that woman as the defence attorney.
Had Umbridge been his attorney, he would have already been kissed by dementors.
The boy would not be given Veritaserum no matter what, and while Yaxley could give him some water, Rabastan didn't see the need for such dramatics.
Mcmillan's word was enough, considering he himself was sitting on the Judge Tribune and not in the chair, shackled up.
The boy and his mother—Gaelia Mcmillan—showed eagerness unrivalled by others when they were offered the deal, and with the Unbreakable Vow, the truth would forever remain buried.
He didn't want to listen to the boy's blabbering, so Rabastan returned to his drawings.
Radix-Stem-Apex …
xxx
…
What?!
That little fuck!
How dare he?
He took a breath to calm his rage before he lost control and took a sip of the sweet wine.
The audacity, the insanity, and the brilliance were not lost on him, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter what he liked or disliked in this little piece of shit because he was going to kill him.
He just had to wait a bit.
Less than an hour.
It had been a perfect plan, and it could have worked, and then the consequences would have been very unpleasant for his well-created world—and him.
He would, of course, survive, but the others wouldn't.
It would have been a nasty blow that would halt his success for some years, if not decades.
Competent people were hard to find.
A Slytherin-worthy plan.
There were two things, though, that changed everything.
The boy did not know that Rabastan Lestrange was similar to Alastor Moody in regards to safety and didn't even take a piss before throwing a ward up.
Azkaban did leave traces, but if Rabastan wanted to throw safety—runic—wards around them when not in the manor, then why should he prohibit it?
Had it not been for the second reason, it would have been the only reason why the plan wouldn't have worked.
But the biggest mistake the boy made was to underestimate him.
He knew he was going to be here—it was even a part of the plan—and even though there were some Occlumency walls around the well-thought plan, they were nothing to him.
His most powerful magic was invisible.
He was the most powerful Legilimens in the world, and that said something.
And those pathetic attempts at Occlumency made him want to laugh.
So many emotions, so much pain, so much hate, and a brilliant mind close to insanity from grief.
He would wipe the floor with the boy's brains.
Taking out his wand, Voldemort silently raised the wards around all the tribunes and took over the charms on the hidden object.
If the boy wanted a bomb to go off, he'd find a better place to put it for the better good.
Yes, Lord Voldemort was the greater good now, and they better not forget about it.
He had to find something creative, something that would simultaneously push Hermione to break their "relationship".
He wouldn't actually allow her to humiliate herself and be a witness under Veritaserum—he was her magical guardian—and therefore, he needed to find something spectacularly evil for this ape and, therefore, horrify Hermione's compassionate heart and make her tell him she wished to be left alone.
And he'd grant her this wish.
She had to wish everything herself, he couldn't actually force her to do anything if he wanted his plan for her to work—all by herself, in conscious and sane mind.
They were halfway through, and Voldemort couldn't say he was disappointed.
It was time for some not-so-happy days. Hermione needed to understand what it would be like without him. She needed to see hell.
She needed to fall.
He would catch her, but not before she would almost feel the ground with her falling body.
Hermione needed to stop separating "Marvolo" and "Lord Voldemort".
He would not "dump" her, even if they had "sex only". He wanted Hermione to do it. She couldn't be a victim here.
His talented Mudblood wasn't the only one who read books on psychiatry.
It was a pity, but his fun had come to an end.
He was going to be dealing with Italy now, and he wouldn't have the time anyway.
Business before pleasure.
He was going to listen to this spectacle that meant so much to Lucius and all those who had been sentenced for being his servants. And then, he was going to surprise the mad inventor with something special.
Talk about special.
"Harry."
Harry was very interesting, so he would allow him to behave like he wanted. Let him make a fool of himself.
Harry was special while Weasley was not.
If the redhead wanted fireworks, he'd give him fireworks.
He'd find a place for the perfect hit.
He had one hour.
xxx
He closed his eyes as he swallowed hard. He was concentrating on his Occlumency shields, thinking about his sister and father, and not about the bomb with charms, hidden under an invisibility cloak and layers of spells near the tribune with the judges.
There was nothing to lose because his family would be destroyed soon, and if they had to suffer, he was going to make sure the bastards suffered as well.
His best invention was now hidden near Malfoy, Lestranges, and the rest of the Death Eaters, and soon ...
The hearing would last over three hours, and while he wanted to do it now, he had to wait and hear what they had planned for his family before casting the triggering spell and killing people.
In one hour.
He was going to blow up those motherfuckers and to hell with them all.
For Fred.
For his family.
For their world.
Sick fucks like Voldemort, Malfoy, Lestranges, Yaxley, and the rest of them sitting on the elevated dark-green tribune did not deserve to live.
So he, a Weasley, was going to destroy at least Malfoy and the Lestranges, and maybe, make Voldemort turn to a spirit again.
George Weasley wetted his lips as he looked at the maniacs.
In one hour, I'm going to blow you all up.
xxx
Umbridge was fixing her tea—again—and Hermione wanted to tear the spoon from her hand and with a strike, impale it into one pale, twinkling eye.
A word "bastard" had an all new meaning when talking about Voldemort.
The toad did know the laws and had experience with trials, but …
Really?!
It was too mean even for him …
Hermione had to learn how to talk to Slytherins without ending with the short end of the bargain.
She had to call him "My Lord" now, and in return, she got Umbridge.
The prosecutor didn't need to do anything as that slippery bitch managed to harm Ginny and Mister Weasley the most.
Umbridge not only asked questions that were meaningless, but also abusive, dishonourable, and simply derogatory.
Why was Voldemort such a bastard?
And Harry …
Hermione did not want to touch the topic called "Harry" now, as she would explode from rage, and she needed to concentrate on the questions that Yaxley was now asking while Ginny was under Veritaserum.
It was an alternative version which didn't allow the person to say anything besides the answer, and it was the one used the most for the hearings.
"Have you ever imagined having sex with at least one person that you know you shouldn't have?"
All the questions Yaxley had been asking could be interpreted many ways, but the public heard only what they wanted to hear.
"Yes."
Well, who was she to judge?
"Are you a curious person, Miss Weasley?"
Who made up the question? Yaxley, Malfoy, or Voldemort?
"Yes."
"Did Mister Mcmillan pay for you in any way or form?"
Fucking lawyers who asked questions the perverse way.
Even if Mark had bought Ginny a butterbeer, Veritaserum would make Ginny say "yes".
"Yes."
"Did you act without anyone's knowledge?"
She knew.
What could she do to make Voldemort stop it?
Smiling bastard.
"No."
"Have you ever seen your father have sex with your older brother?"
What?!
"No."
"Have you slept with your father?"
…
Was there anyone sane and normal in Voldemort's ambience? They all knew that the Weasleys were innocent.
"Yes."
Of course she slept with her dad when he held her as a baby or read her books when older before bed. It wasn't a sexual question, but those perverts managed to turn it all upside down. Ginny and Mister Weasley were not perverts!
"What did your father call you when he slept with you?"
Hermione could not believe how low some could fall. Had Malfoy really no shame? Why did he hate Arthur Weasley so much?
It was Malfoy's question, judging by the barely-contained nasty smile directed at Mister Weasley, who was shaking in silent rage.
Malfoy already had to cast a Silencing Charm on him as when the prosecutor started to question Ginny, Mister Weasley couldn't keep quiet.
"My flower."
Hermione watched Ginny's running tears mirror on her father's face, and Hermione started to cry as well.
Her dad called her "sunshine".
xxx
Bellatrix was watching the show, and it was wonderful.
Malfoy might be a wuss, but he was good.
As she giggled at the question, she saw the Mudblood cry.
Daddy's itty bitty girl.
Wait…
Oh yes … Yes, that was perfect!
A-haha-haaaa!
Lucius's question helped her find the answer she had been searching for.
Where to hit the Mudblood?
Especially now, when she understood that this shit had been with her Lord somewhere sunny. All alone.
She was Bellatrix Lestrange née Black, and she would make the bitch regret ever being born into their wonderful world.
xxx
How much more embarrassing could it get?
Draco watched Potter who was now making lines of powder on the parapet right in front of Umbridge with his tongue stuck out in concentration.
"Mister Potter, what is the meaning of this?"
Draco hated the ugly shit, even if they were on the same side. Umbridge just rubbed him the wrong way.
"Want some? You may turn out to be not such a sick bitch if you get high."
Draco didn't know if he was allowed to laugh out loud—like his uncle was doing right now—but just in case, he managed to hold it back before it escaped his lips as he watched the disbelieving face with wide eyes turn to his father.
"Minister Malfoy, drug possession and distribution are punishable by law. Surely Potter cannot be allowed to continue?"
Yeah, well, it didn't matter what the law said.
His father stood behind the insane amount of drug trafficking, and the Dark Lord allowed Potter to use the drugs where he wanted, so Draco failed to see what Potter had to do to get in Azkaban.
Luckily, Potter was respectful towards the Dark Lord and his father and mocked Umbridge only, so he was allowed to continue as long as he remembered whom he was addressing.
"Go on with the questioning, Dolores. Don't worry about things that do not matter for the case."
His father was smiling slightly as he watched Potter make a new line.
Questioning …
If Draco had to answer the same questions as the Weasley, he'd also look like a pervert.
His dad used to call him "Dragon", and his mom called him "Drakie".
xxx
"I am not taking Veritaserum. It's not good for my health."
Hermione was looking at Harry, who was leaning into the witness chair, and she wanted to kill him.
Him and Voldemort. And Malfoy.
"Harry."
Hermione pursed her lips at the voice and then at Harry, who with a suffering sigh, stuck out his tongue for the three drops of the truth serum.
Harry was a junky, and she had been a blind fish.
"Please state your name."
Yaxley had started with the questions, and Hermione knew nothing good would come out of it, judging by Harry's mad, green eyes.
How did she miss it?
"Harry James Potter."
"What House were you almost Sorted into at Hogwarts, Mister Potter?"
What? What did the "almost sorted" mean? Harry was a Gryffindor through and through.
"Slytherin."
Hermione saw most people watch Harry with wide eyes. She wasn't the only one surprised. The only one unsurprised was Voldemort, who was watching Harry closely.
"Do you feel betrayed by the Weasleys?"
"Yes."
Harry was under Veritaserum …
He still loved Ginny …
And she advised Ginny to give herself to another man.
She was cursed.
"Why were you Sorted into Gryffindor and not Slytherin?"
Yaxley's dirty-blond hair was near her, as he walked around the prosecution stand. Hermione already noticed how Yaxley loved to question while moving. Like a predator.
"I asked the Sorting Hat not to place me in Slytherin."
"And why is that, Mister Potter?"
Hermione saw Harry shake his head, not wanting to answer.
"I was told only bad wizards come from Slytherin."
Considering the crowd consisted mostly of Slytherins, the next question from Yaxley interested many.
"And who told you that, Mister Potter?"
Draco was gaping at the lazy figure of Harry, and Hermione wished to break his jaw.
Drug dealer Junior.
"Rubeus Hagrid and Ronald Weasley."
She had no words.
"The prosecution is ready for the defence to question the witness."
That was it? Voldemort—or Malfoy—had no more questions?
Hermione watched with a barely-restrained urge to kill as Umbridge straightened her pink dress and, with a nasty smile, approached Harry who was leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed.
"Mister Potter, have you broken any laws in the last month?"
Harry was sitting with his eyes closed, and Hermione didn't understand why. Why wasn't he looking at Umbridge at all?
"Yes. Better ask what I haven't broken. I don't have all day."
It looked like Harry had gotten the older version of Veritaserum that allowed one to add comments.
She didn't even need to guess why. She could see it on Voldemort's smirking face.
Bastard.
"Are you a drug addict?"
Yes, Hermione wanted to ask this as well.
"Very much so."
She'd have a nice, long chat with Harry.
"And where do you buy your drugs?"
And with Voldemort.
Hermione knew he was a monster, but she didn't know Voldemort was a drug dealer.
Malfoy then.
A bunch of true criminals, who should be sitting here, shackled to the chairs below and not leaning back and laughing from the raised tribune.
"How is that case-related? I don't buy them anymore. I get them for free."
"Who-"
"Crucio!"
Hermione almost screamed when Umbridge fell to the floor, thrashing in pain under Voldemort's favourite curse.
However, if there was one Crucio that she could enjoy …
"Ask the questions that are case-related. It isn't that hard, is it?"
It looked like Voldemort's patience was thin when dealing with Umbridge.
"Ahaha. Should have taken it when I was offering."
This junky was not Harry.
He was now leaning over the parapet of the witness stand and cheering at the thrashing body of Dolores Umbridge under Lord Voldemort's Crucio, and Hermione wished to cast one on Harry as well.
How could he have been so stupid?
Hermione didn't need to hear the question that Umbridge had wanted to ask. She already understood who provided Harry with everything.
Monsters.
The curse was lifted, and Umbridge managed to get up on her feet before bowing to Voldemort.
"I apologize, my Lord."
"Continue, Dolores."
Malfoy smiled before taking a paper from the stack and giving it to Yaxley.
"The defence has no more questions for Mister Potter."
Why was Harry called, if no questions had been asked?
If Voldemort wanted to make Harry look like an insane wizard and simultaneously add hate to the Weasleys, he managed well even without those questions. But Hermione saw a few pure-bloods look at Harry with raised eyebrows.
Harry was almost a Slytherin?
"Any witnesses you wish to call, Madam Attorney?"
Hermione watched Rita Skeeter quickly give Umbridge a list with notes, and a nasty feeling started to spread over her stomach.
"The defence calls for Hermione Granger."
xxx
Lucius was having the time of his life when he heard that idiot Umbridge call the name of the only person that was out of his control.
Considering his Master was the magical guardian, the Mudblood would not be able to answer any question without the Dark Lord's approval.
He watched the girl—nice tan—get up and proceed to the witness chair which was empty as Potter was now drinking something from a long thin orange glass, leaning onto his son.
It definitely wasn't water.
"Before you proceed, Madam Attorney, you should be aware that Miss Granger is under the Guardian Oath. She will not be able to answer anything without her guardian's approval."
Lucius smiled as he finished the sentence.
He saw many raise their eyebrows and lean forward. It was not a well-known fact that his Lord was the Mudblood's guardian.
And not only guardian, judging by the similar tan they both now had.
While his Lord wasn't as tanned as the girl, he wasn't as pale as he used to be. And the Mudblood's face and arms weren't the only places that were tanned to an almost golden colour; those long legs were also a shade darker than usual.
Interesting.
"The defence then calls for the guardian of Hermione Granger to join her at the witnessing stand."
And who was going to ask the questions from the prosecution?
Lucius was sure as hell he wasn't going to question his Lord.
Yaxley better be careful with his wording.
Lucius prepared himself for an interesting show when his Lord simply got up from his chair and walked down to the witness stand, sitting casually into the chair next to the Mudblood.
To say the crowd was shocked would be an understatement.
And Umbridge …
Well, if she wanted to live, she'd have to control her tongue.
"Very well, Dolores. Ask away."
Lucius shared a smile with Rabastan after his Lord's approval at the now shivering figure of the toad before leaning forward and concentrating on the "questioning".
xxx
Ron was watching the two figures on the witness stand, and he wanted to die.
He wasn't the brightest of the bunch, but he wasn't an idiot.
But Voldemort told him himself there was nothing between them!
Ron saw Hermione lean to the bastard before she hissed something at him.
The hissing had been quiet, but he heard it, just like the rest of the crowd.
Where had she been this whole week and what had she been doing?
xxx
"I hate you so much!"
Yes, yes.
That was the plan.
Voldemort leaned back and crossed his feet before waving a hand at the attorney.
What a joke.
He really understood why Umbridge was hated by Lucius and Rabastan as much as by Potter and Granger.
Everyone wanted her dead, and everyone hoped she would asked him something that would make him kill her. Potter, Granger, Malfoys, Lestrange, and Weasleys all hoped for the same thing.
Talk about unity …
He'd have his fun, allowing Hermione to answer some questions that he had written himself and not allowing the others.
He wasn't a complete bastard to make his Mudblood look very bad.
And then, he'd start his own questioning.
xxx
"Please state your name."
"Hermione Jean Granger."
Hermione smiled as Umbridge looked at Voldemort before wetting her pink lips.
Hermione understood that Umbridge was truly afraid as she did not know what she was allowed to ask and what not.
Voldemort didn't tell the toad anything, and Hermione didn't know if she should feel a bit lighter or panic more.
The three drops of Veritaserum were poured onto her tongue, and Hermione wondered which version she had gotten.
"Have you ever done anything to endanger the lives of others?"
She wanted to say "yes", but somehow, no words came out.
The Oath …
"Crucio!"
Nice …
Hermione heard Harry bark in laughter and saw Malfoy and Lestrange share a smile.
"If I like the question, I will allow my charge to answer. If I do not like it, you'll feel it."
Hermione smirked inwardly as it took Umbridge some time to get up after the second Cruciatus, even if it lasted only a few seconds.
"Yes, my Lord."
Hermione saw Ron look at her from his place in the back row, and she wanted to jump up and run to him. To hug him and beg for forgiveness.
"Have you known about Miss Weasley's actions?"
Hermione saw Voldemort's wand lit purple, and her mouth opened on itself.
"Yes."
She got the version that did not allow additional comments.
Shit.
Molly was gaping at her, and Hermione wanted to hide her face in shame.
"Are you involved in the prostitution as well?"
Hermione smiled slightly when another Cruciatus flew towards the bitch.
Maybe Voldemort wouldn't be a complete bastard?
xxx
How to ask the questions?
While the Oath allowed his Lord to control all the questions, he still didn't want to find out which questions were wrong like Umbridge.
She was now enjoying her seventh Crucio, and it didn't look good for the stupid bitch who couldn't control her hate towards the Mudblood. Even his Lord's presence didn't make her pink brains work.
He had to be respectful and ask normal questions—unlike with the Weasleys—and he wasn't looking forward to it.
It's been a long time since he'd last behaved in the courtroom.
Looking over the questions given to him by Malfoy, Alexander Yaxley sighed heavily, as he straightened his dark-green tie.
It was hard to be him.
xxx
"Miss Granger, are you comfortable?"
Ron was looking at the well-dressed wizard who was now going to question Hermione, and then he looked at Voldemort who was sitting close to Hermione, leaning back in his chair and holding up his wand with purple light.
No one could be comfortable when he was so near.
"Yes."
Ron watched as Harry lit up another cigarette, and he wanted one as well.
"Do you live in Britain?"
"No."
"Where do you live?"
"In Venice."
"You're studying to be a Spells Architect at Illuminus University of Magic, is that correct?"
Purple light.
"Yes."
"Do you enjoy it?"
Purple light.
"Yes."
Come on, everyone knew Hermione and knowledge were meant for one another!
Couldn't Voldemort think up a better question?
"Have you ever been to Nepal?"
Ron saw Hermione's head turn to face Voldemort and witnessed the small smile on the Dark Lord's refined, smooth face.
Purple light.
"No."
But … but you told me yourself, Hermione. Did you lie to me?
"You have a wonderful tan, Miss Granger. Where did you get it, if I may ask?"
Hermione was now holding her hands together, her thumbs rubbing each other.
She was really nervous now.
"You may, Yaxley."
Ron saw Hermione close her eyes, and he saw her lips tremble.
"Where have you been, Hermione?"
"In Goa."
What? What kind of university trip could be in Goa?
"Were you alone, Miss Granger?"
"That is not case-related, Yaxley!"
Ron heard Harry shout, but the wand in Voldemort's hand was lit purple again.
"No."
"Were you there with a male acquaintance or a female acquaintance?"
"I protest!" Harry was shouting from his place and Ron saw the Ferret try and calm him.
"Shut up, Harry."
Voldemort's one sentence was enough for Harry to glare at Yaxley before sitting back into his chair.
Ron needed to know the answer. He wasn't an idiot; he saw the similar tan on Voldemort, and he needed to hear what he had been so afraid to think of.
A purple light.
"Male."
Ron didn't want to look at Hermione as she was now looking at him, so he directed his gaze at the Judge Panel, where Malfoy and Lestrange were whispering to one another.
He wasn't the only one who had connected the dots.
"Who were you with?"
Tell me, just tell me, Hermione. Just stop lying!
"Next question, Yaxley."
Why didn't he let Hermione say his name out loud? Why did he stop his Death Eater?
"Yes, my Lord. Miss Granger, how are your relationships with your professors? Any problems?"
Why did Hermione have a panicked look in her eyes at the question?
Purple light.
"No."
"Have you had any problems with any of your university professors?"
What was the bastard asking? Yaxley asked only shit questions when his sister and dad had been questioned, but what he was asking Hermione wasn't case-related at all.
Why was Hermione suddenly so nervous?
Purple light.
"Yes."
"And where is this professor now?"
It looked like only Hermione and Voldemort knew what this was about as even Malfoy and the rest of the Death Eaters looked confused. Yaxley was reading from a paper, and it looked like no one knew what was going on.
"Dead."
Silence.
Dead? Why was her professor dead, and why did Hermione look ready to faint?
"And how did the professor die?"
Hermione had her eyes closed, and Ron had a bad feeling about it.
Purple light.
"She was tortured to insanity."
Well …
Considering that Voldemort tortured Umbridge seven times for asking the wrong questions, it shouldn't be a surprise that he tortured the professor as well.
"By the Dark Lord?"
Yaxley was looking at the wand tip of Voldemort's bone-white wand, fully expecting a Cruciatus to fly at him, and even Ron saw the prosecutor breathe out in relief when the wand lit up in purple instead.
"No."
What? Who then …
No … no, no, no!
You did not kill your professor, Hermione!
What is wrong with you and Harry?!
What was wrong with everyone?!
"Have you recently changed the locks at your Venice apartment?"
Ron's heart fell into his stomach as he understood everything.
Hermione changed the locks for him. And the questions were also meant for him.
Purple.
"Yes."
She was now looking at him with tears in her brown eyes, and Ron didn't know what he wanted.
xxx
He could allow his Mudblood to make a fool of herself, but it would be too much.
She was ready to attack him with her tiny fists, and he couldn't allow it.
He may enjoy her violent side when they were alone, but here, in front of his Death Eaters and cameras, he'd have to punish her so hard that she'd probably forget her name for a while.
"Enough, Yaxley."
Alexander bowed before going back to his seat, and Voldemort had to actually push Hermione from the witness chair and towards her place as the girl looked ready to collapse from the nerves.
Voldemort got up as well, and lightly twirling his wand, he addressed the public.
"We will let our hard-working Law Enforcement take a break. I will ask the questions for the next witness myself."
He saw Malfoy's now panicked eyes look over the papers, and then Rabastan was quickly turning the files, looking for the part that wasn't there.
He didn't care about their reaction as he was now looking at the insane eyes that widened in realisation.
"Prosecution calls for George Weasley."
xxx
He knew.
Voldemort knew about the bomb, and as George quickly cast the activation spell, nothing happened.
He had no control over his own invention, and now Voldemort wanted him to be a witness under Veritaserum.
He had failed.
What had he done?
xxx
"I need to piss."
He hated him.
Why did he have to deal with him?
"Well, you'll have to wait, Potter."
He couldn't just take Potter, get up, and leave.
In front of everyone, especially now when George Weasley was called by the Dark Lord himself.
It would be interesting to know why this Weasley interested the Dark Lord, and Draco wanted to see it.
"Can't."
Fuck you, Potter! Fuck you!
"Harry, go where you need to go."
Thank you, my Lord.
"Gee, thanks. We don't want me pissing all over the place, do we?"
He would never take drugs again.
Dad was right.
"Piss off, Harry."
Ahahaha.
Draco watched as Potter got up and, on unsteady legs, ran towards the exit before disappearing in the doorway, and then the doors closed.
"George Weasley."
The Dark Lord was standing on the spot where the prosecution was represented, and Draco shivered when he thought about how it must feel like to be George Weasley now. The biggest problem for Weasley was not even the fact that the Dark Lord was brilliant. It was first and foremost that he was also the most powerful Legilimens in the world, and Draco had felt it on himself every time in the Dark Lord's presence.
He knew which questions to ask.
He knew everything he needed to know before you even understood it.
"Yes."
So it wasn't Fred.
He could never tell the difference. It wouldn't be really a shock if they decided to fool the world for the last time and swapped identities.
"Are you afraid, George? I'll call you 'George' because there are just too many Weasleys around. I hope you don't mind."
The Dark Lord was slowly walking while he talked, and Draco marvelled at the dark-green robe and the lightly shimmering black vest. Who made them for the Dark Lord? He'd have to ask his father as it was probably one of his own tailors.
He'd have to order a few for himself.
Was it velvet? He liked velvet. The smoother, the better.
"Yes."
"Yes, you are afraid, or yes, too many Weasleys?"
Everyone in Slytherin should have a mandatory class with the Dark Lord on how to be articulate.
"Afraid."
He would also be. Who wouldn't be?
He wasn't including Potter—too high and crazy—and Granger—well, well, well—but everyone else would be afraid.
"You should be."
Whoa, what did Weasley do?
And he didn't say "whoa".
"All of you are sitting now in your chairs, looking at George and your Lord, and you don't know that you would've been dead already."
What? It cannot be! What was the Dark Lord saying?
Draco looked at his father to see him whisper—talk with his uncle urgently.
They also did not know.
"George Weasley has brought a gift with him today, to this very Ministry main courtroom where we sit. And what did George Weasley do with the gift?"
Merlin!
It had to be a joke. It could not be what he was thinking it was.
George Weasley?
"I placed it under the far corner of the Judge's Tribune, under an invisibility cloak and twelve different charms and spells."
He could hear his breathing in the silence that followed the words.
Before Draco could panic, he felt his father's gaze on him.
"Your plan was good, George. Very good, and I almost applaud you for your attempt. It would have worked, really, it would have, had it not been for me. I, Lord Voldemort, cannot be fooled. I cannot be tricked or cheated. I see and know everything."
Merlin, was it good to be on the correct side.
"And you certainly cannot hide a bomb from me."
Fucking Weasley!
Fucking shit wanted to kill his father! His father?!
Draco would kill this Weasley with pleasure now. He looked at the white, shocked faces of the public and then at his father who now looked completely serious as he watched Arthur Weasley thrash silently in his chair.
"You brought a bomb and you wanted to blow it up in this courtroom. Who did you want to kill?"
Share with us, Weasel.
"Lucius Malfoy, Rabastan Lestrange, Alexander Yaxley, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Amelia Greengrass—"
Draco stopped listening even before more than one third of the Sacred Twenty-Eight were named, and he had to bite his tongue when he heard the last name.
"—Tom Marvolo Riddle."
Balls of steel.
He had nothing to lose, but still …
"Gryffindors. So brave, so boastful before you show them reality. You don't think and you behave irrationally."
The Dark Lord was standing straight as he looked at George Weasley.
Even Draco was afraid, and he wasn't sitting in that chair.
"How about I tell you that I would punish your family for everything you say and do, and then you tell me who else you want to kill. I didn't hear the last name right, I think. I am correct in my thinking, aren't I, George?"
Oh man, it was going to be bad.
"I want to kill you, Lord Voldemort."
Very bad.
Weasleys, all of them, had no chance now.
While before, there was a way for some, now …
Draco wasn't sure his children would ever hear that last name.
Only in the books written by the Dark Lord's followers.
It would have been sad had Weasley not tried to kill his father. If there was one person who Draco would do anything for, it was his dad.
And George tried to kill him.
Father is right. The Weasleys are scum.
And Malfoys did not tolerate scum.
xxx
Cold water helped to clear his thoughts, and the empty bladder didn't have his full attention anymore.
All Harry was able to think about was how much he wanted to Cruciate Umbridge himself. The rage wanted a way out, and Harry didn't know what to do.
He might be insane, and he might be a snapped junky, but he was still Harry Potter, and he did not give up that easily.
He couldn't Cruciate Umbridge in front of anyone.
But maybe, if he asked Tom for a favour …
Harry took out the pills and swallowed a handful before sitting on the floor.
If Tom missed him, he could come and get him.
He wasn't going to sit there and watch this joke if he could sit here and watch the ceiling.
It couldn't get worse.
xxx
Bill wiped Fleur's sweaty forehead before kissing her on the cheek.
He was supposed to be with his family, watching that joke trial, but his wife was giving birth to their daughter, and he couldn't leave Shell Cottage.
Soon, there would be a new Weasley in the world, and Bill wanted nothing more but for her to be happy.
His daughter.
Everything would be all right.
They were Weasleys, and they would survive.
No matter what, today was going to be a good day.
He was going to be a dad soon.
They would name her Victoria.
xxx
"And that is what I am going to do. Do you like it?"
The tender lips were curled in a cruel smile that revealed white, straight teeth.
Hermione sat on the floor, crying openly, as she leaned with her back onto the sofa.
Voldemort had just shared his plans for today, and Hermione had never felt more horrible than she did now.
She was such a stupid, blind piece of a whore!
Where were her brains, where was her conscience, where was her soul?
This monster could not be her lover.
"I never want to touch you again. I don't want to see you. I hate you!" Hermione screamed, and she knew that had it not been for the wards around the private cabinet, it could have been heard everywhere.
It was hard to breathe.
She had known all along what kind of monster he was, but this was just too much.
And she loved him?!
"Is that what you truly wish?"
Voldemort was looking at her with a raised eyebrow, and Hermione hated his handsome face with elegant eyebrows and smart, pale eyes.
"Yes. Fucking yes! I hate you!"
Hit me, do something, just stop staring!
"You're repeating yourself, my sweet."
I am not your sweet!
Suddenly, her hair was captured by an elegant hand in a hard grip and twisted up. The tender lips were brutal in their kiss as they suddenly attacked, and then he just let her go and stepped back.
"Very well, Hermione. Your wish will be granted. We are adults, aren't we?"
Hermione saw him smile lightly at her before he turned around, the dark green robe twirling, and left the private room, closing the door quietly behind him.
She wanted to talk to him, and therefore, when the lunch break came—monsters loved their food—Hermione managed to get Voldemort to herself and beg him to let George and the rest of the Weasleys live.
She didn't know that their conversation would turn this way or that she would scream at him in hate. Hermione sat on the floor and she felt empty.
It was for the greater good.
xxx
a/n Smiles. Did I surprise you? I hope I did. Can you guess what happens next? Grins...
All your thoughts are greatly appreciated, as I alway find inspiration in your comments.You're all awesome! Waves!
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Two Steps From Hell