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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 37648 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 26
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The bittersweet taste of victory

If this world is wearing thin

And you're thinking of escape

I'll go anywhere with you

Just wrap me up in chains

But if you try to go out alone

Don't think I'll understand

Stay with me

Stay with me

In the silence of your room

In the darkness of your dreams

You must only think of me

There can be no in between

When your pride is on the floor

I'll make you beg for more

Stay with me

Stay with me

You'd better hope and pray

That you make it safe

Back to your own world

You'd better hope and pray

That you'll wake one day

In your own world

'Cause when you sleep at night

They don't hear your cries

In your own world

Only time will tell

If you can break the spell

Back in your own world

Stay with me

Stay with me

Stay, stay with me

Stay, stay, stay, stay, stay

Stay with me...

Shakespeare's sister; Stay (with me)

Chapter twenty-seven

When I return back into Voldemort's quarters at Hogwarts, a House-elf is busy cleaning the place. I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs. But I blow up the living room table instead, and several couches, and while I am at it, I really hate that ugly dresser over there. Another Blasting Charm makes certain I never have to witness the preposterous, pompous dresser ever again and I smile feeling extremely content. From the corner of my eye, I notice the House-elf is disappearing fearfully because of my rage and it annoys me to tears. I am not aiming at the stupid creature, so why is it hurrying away like I am about to kill it? I am only doing some much needed redecorating. It's like they say: "a home just needs a woman's touch". So I trash every piece of furniture in range to make sure this woman's touch is visible all over the place.

'Much better,' I think smirking when I look at the debris that is now filling up the room, and I walk out of there absolutely pleased with myself.

Out of habit I walk to the study and slouch down in the couch. I pick up one of the books, but then I realise … I can't risk it anymore. The Amulet is dead. It stopped glowing. I am no longer protected from those Dark Arts volumes. I lean forward to place the book back on the table when a smooth voice inside of me speaks up.

'You know that book contains some very interesting theories on the uses of Arithmancy in Spell Creation.'

I halt my forward motion and stare at the book. Really? I love Arithmancy. It's my favourite subject. And I've read a bit about Spell Creation before, but I've never heard of Arithmancy being used in it. I lean backward and cross my legs to get in my comfortable reading stance. I open the book interested in its contents, and I feel very smug and pleased as I flip the leaves to go to the first chapter. Why do I feel that way?

I look up in confusion. And then, it hits me. The voice inside me… the same voice I heard when I wore the locket … the same voice I've heard over the past months. VOLDEMORT! I toss the book across the room furiously. My temper flies through the roof. I fling to my feet and start pacing the study to and fro, while my mind goes into overdrive. He killed Yoda and turned me into a Horcrux; the bastard. I have to do something about this. I resisted the locket too. I can do it again.

'You didn't wear the locket twenty-four/seven, dear,' Voldemort's taunting soul fragment states. 'Besides, you don't really want to resist me anymore. You want to give in. You need to give in. The darkness is already a part of you. I can sense it even more clearly now I am inside of you. It is already ingrained into your soul. Look into the mirror, my little, dark angel, and you know I am right.'

I don't need to walk to a mirror, because I can see my reflection in the dark glass of the side table. My eyes are pitch-black. Not that I need the reminder, because I already know what they look like nowadays.

'Such a beautiful onyx colour,' Voldemort purrs, 'pick up the book, Hermione, you know you want to read it.'

I keep looking at my eyes. Why have they turned dark? I haven't given in to him. I haven't!

'It's safe for you to read this book, my darling. It holds no booby-trap for the reader. It's just knowledge. There is nothing wrong with obtaining knowledge, is there?'

Like I am in a trance, I pick up the book. Well, he is right. A little knowledge never hurt anyone. Too bad this book won't contain the answer to why my soul has turned dark. And why did Yoda say that it was my Light side that drew me to Voldemort? That makes no sense whatsoever. But then again, Yoda had a tendency to not make any sense whatsoever. I stated I am not light and he said that darkness is everywhere and in everyone. 'HELLO!' I shout, pointing with my free hand frantically to my head. 'Black eyes! I don't recall that being a common feature in everyone.'

I shake my head and toss the book from one hand to the other. And then, Yoda turned into Jareth with the Hamlet phrase. And to top it all, he had to start babbling about darkness without giving me so much as one sane clue to what was the meaning of his rambling!

'Only those who know the darkness' true nature can contain it,' I mockingly repeat. 'There are many ways to oppose darkness. Not everything is about fighting battles and using magic as a tool of war and destruction. Pffftt… Well, I guess it is about drinking tea then. Maybe I can suck on a Lemon Drop, while I am at it.'

A soft snicker inside of me draws me out of my reminiscence. 'Get out of my mind, Riddle!'

'If you want to suck on something, Granger, I have a much better suggestion.'

'Look here, you pervert…'

'Tsk, tsk, tsk…,' he clicks disapprovingly WITH MY TONGUE! Like hearing him do it isn't aggravating enough, but he isn't done yet and starts whispering in my mind again. 'Those are your interpretations of my words, dearest, not that I think it isn't a good idea…' And he laughs loudly.

'Oh I am so going to kill you – you – you, annoying, irritating, obnoxious, vile, vicious, evil, murdering…'

'Charming, powerful, intelligent, passionate, cunning, immortal, omnipotent, and let's not forget to note my considerable talents in the sex department, which you seem to love so much,' Voldemort adds smirking.

Yeah, I just know that mutilated soul of his is smirking now.

'Does Narcissistic ring a bell?' I sneer at him. See, I knew I forgot an important aspect in my list before. 'Because let's face it, dearest,' I snarl, 'the only reason you turned me into a Horcrux is so you could fuck yourself. You better watch out not to drown into any pools of water that cross your path.'

'Concerned for my wellbeing?'

'No, I just think we have enough polluted water on this planet already. It would be a shame to allow your toxic presence to contaminate another piece of nature.'

'Jealous, doll?'

'What!'

'Admit it,' Voldemort responds smugly, 'you just can't stand the thought of having to share my … toxic presence with something or someone else.'

I sputter indignantly. 'You are twisting my words around!'

Voldemort shrugs my shoulders. 'Am I now? I tend to disagree with your assessment, Hermione. I don't believe it is called twisting your words around; it is called having another opinion, one which is more valid than yours I might add.'

'Pray tell, why is your opinion more valid?' I mockingly ask.

'Because my judgement is not clouded by my emotions and feelings, dear, I can give you a rational argument, while your opinion is filled with your lovefor me.'

'Oh, believe me; every time you open your mouth my lovefor you is diminishing rapidly.'

'Prove it.'

'Uh?'

'If your love has diminished, why don't you prove it to me?'

'I just told you, which I believe is proof enough. But why don't you just check my mind and see how much I despise your guts.'

'Oh, I am sure you despise my actions, but that doesn't necessarily exclude feeling love for me.'

'What would you know about the subject? You don't even have a clue to how love feels.'

'True, but I read all about it.'

Now, I snort loudly and roll my eyes. Mr Bookworm read all about it and thinks that covers it.

'Oh yes,' Voldemort drawls, 'love is all about two people who start of hating each other with a passion, but they are doomed to be together due to silly circumstances they can't avoid or control. They are attracted to each other but push one another away, with lots and lots of panting, heaving bosoms, heated exchanges, perhaps even an unwanted kiss, and then, there is some misunderstanding (usually due to a nasty, third party) and a dreadful break up follows, after which they come back together due to a tragedy and she makes him see the light and he changes for the better. Of course, they live happily ever after.'

'Glad you are reading quality literature on the subject.'

'Don't you wanna teach me how to love, Granger?' Voldemort asks mocking. 'Turn me into a good, little boy? Help me see the light and feel remorse for my dreadful, terrible deeds?'

'Oh go fish.'

'My nonexistent heart is crushed,' Voldemort exclaims dramatically. 'You've broken it forever. Don't you realise how fragile someone is who has never known love and friendship? Now, I will never redeem myself and be saved.'

I sigh. Gosh, I definitely need to learn Occlumency against this rubbish. Have you ever heard such nonsense before? 'Will you shut up if I read this book?' I ask, while holding up the Dark Arts volume about Arithmancy in Spell Creation before my eyes, so he can see it too.

'Aha! So you admit you still love me,' is his smug response.

'I said no such thing,' I rebut indignant.

'You're unwilling to prove you don't,' he says silkily.

'That's just because you have a thick skull in which nothing I say seems to penetrate.'

'Why don't you cast a Patronus then? And we will see who is right here.'

'I don't have a wand.'

'You just trashed my living room without a wand, sweetie.'

'I don't think having you inside of me will make me capable of thinking happy thoughts,' I sneer. I slouch down on the couch victorious and open the book. After all, no one can cast a Patronus Charm without a strong cheerful emotion, so I win.

'On the contrary, I think having me inside of you will make you very, very happy,' Voldemort purrs.

Suddenly, he closes my eyes, crosses my legs and places my hands (palms up) on my knees. Syllables, I don't know the meaning from, leave my mouth in a numeric sequence, and I feel something impact on my body. He releases his hold on my body and allows me to control it again. Anxiously, I open my eyes and stretch my muscles to check my reactions, but everything seems fine.

'What did you do?' I ask suspiciously. Just because I am not noticing anything, doesn't mean I am in the clear.

'Too bad you haven't read the book yet, otherwise you would have known, Hermione,' Voldemort responds smugly. 'So I guess, now, you won't be ready and it will make a much bigger impact.'

'Impact on what?' I ask concerned.

'You'll see,' he teases.

'Oooohhhhh,' I moan when the sensation hits between my legs, and I sink down further into the couch considerably. 'Fucking cheat.'

'Tsk, tsk, Hermione, language, language,' he reprimands chuckling. 'I am still waiting for your proof to how you do not love me,' he mocks.

'Why don't you just go and …' I start furiously, but I lose control over my body before I am even finished bashing him. Another stream of unidentifiable syllables leaves my lips against my will and instantaneously my body becomes weak, my muscles malfunctioning and my skin has never felt this sensitive as I crash off the couch groaning in desire.

'Hmm… this is an interesting experience,' Voldemort says contemplatively. 'I think I am going to enjoy having sex with you even more now.'

'Will you stop this?' I yell desperate from the floor, while I ache uncomfortably.

'What's the matter, dear? Need a release?'

I merely groan in response. 'Really, what a stupid question.'

'Tsk, tsk, tsk… And here I was considering helping you out, but now, I just have to investigate this body's vulnerabilities a bit further. Hope you don't mind,' he adds cheerfully. 'After all, I have never been inside a woman's body like this before. I am kind of curious to how it feels if certain parts get stimulated.'

I try to stop him from taking over again, but I fail miserably and he starts manipulating my body with magic from all angles. I throw my head backward violently and it hits the floor roughly, but I don't even notice, while I scream in wantonness. My nails scratch the rug on the floor as I twist and wriggle in desire. I clench my legs together and try not to lose my sanity, while Voldemort experiments with my sexual organs to a degree he has not done before. I can feel my fluids leaving my body and my pants are becoming so wet I will need to change when this is done.

Next thing my clothes are gone and he touches my body with my hands all over. He seems to be enjoying investigating what it feels like to be touched in certain ways to a woman. He massages my breasts and pinches my nipples. I can feel I am going to come when he strokes my clit with my fingers and starts inserting them inside of me. My muscles clench against my fingers in an agonising, throbbing feel. I need to be truly filled. This isn't nearly satisfying enough.

'Hmm… this really is unpleasant,' Voldemort concludes. 'I suppose being a man is much easier.'

'Just because you don't know what the hell you are doing,' I sneer in between ragged breaths, 'doesn't mean a woman can't climax by herself.'

An arrogant snort is all the response I get. That man's ego is so incredibly, aggravatingly inflated I am surprised gravity is able to defeat it and allows him to remain earth-based.

'Nothing and no one defeats Lord Voldemort.'

I sigh. 'Well, then bloody do something about this, Mr Invincible,' I sneer in my head and point to my aching pussy.

'I didn't hear the magic words yet,' he teasingly replies.

'Fine, fine,' I snarl. He really can be such a baby at times. 'I love you. Are you happy now?'

'I don't think that sounded very sincere to me,' he states haughtily.

'Oh for crying out loud, stop tormenting me. I already find it horrific enough as it is that I feel this way. There is no need for you to rub it in. I love you; you vile, murdering lunatic.'

'Always the flattering words, Granger,' says someone, who is now definitely snickering inside of me. 'But I do remember waiting for certain proof of that statement.'

'I think your history is proof enough,' I respond dryly.

'The statement before that one,' he replies calmly, ignoring my pun.

'Well, I am not happy but incredibly needy right now, so you can just forget about any successful Patronus-Conjuring at all,' I rebut.

'Good point. I guess I should make you as happy as I feel then.'

And he cast a Patronus Charm to send a message to himself. A silvery stream leaves my head and I am watching how a hairy four-legged creature frolics around the room waggling its tail cheerfully. I can feel his shock and it becomes utterly silent inside of me.

I snort. 'That is your Patronus?' I giggle. 'And here I was expecting the Heir of Slytherin to have a Basilisk, or a Chimera, or a ferocious Dragon, or some other dangerous animal to be its protector.' I roar with laughter at the sight of men's best friend. 'I would send an owl too,' I mock, 'it's bound to get distracted if it sees a lamppost or a tree. And who knows what will happen if it runs into a Cat-Patronus,' I suggest, finding that visual very hilarious.

I have to clench on to my belly, because my laughter is causing my muscles to cramp considerably. My laughing fit at seeing Voldemort's Patronus also has the wonderful side-effect of not needing a release anymore. Nothing can top this. The big, bad Dark Lord has a dog Patronus, really. Pfftt… And still no response from the person inside of me. I can feel his confusion, while his obviously somewhat stubborn Terrier sniffs around the room, instead of delivering the message.

'Forgot to train it properly?' I hiccough. 'It seems to not be listening to your orders at all.'

Finally, as if on cue to my words, it decides to leave and charges off into the sky, but Voldemort waves my hand at it and it disintegrates completely.

'Oh,' I state in mock disappointment. 'I was so looking forward to teach it to roll over and play dead.'

'Why don't you just read the book, Granger,' Voldemort says quietly, 'or I will have you screaming on the floor in a manner you will find a lot less pleasant.'

I recognise that tone and I figure now is probably not a very good time to add another wisecrack.

'Scourcify,' I cast on my clothes.

I must say it is quite a relief to be able to do magic again without having to fight for its usage first. I scan my surroundings for the book and pick it up, before I plummet down in the couch with it. As I imagined, it is thoroughly interesting. Spell Creation on its own is one of the most difficult subjects out there and this volume describes into intricate detail how Arithmancy can enhance the spells that already exist or the spells that you create.

'Numeric sequencing can thoroughly establish achievements unseen before. The number three, known for its mental agility, can also be used to strengthen the results of the Confundus Charm. In this state one can use the power of the three by placing the planner, dreamer and critic against one another thoroughly and it will prolong the state of the Confundus Charm indefinitely. A Countercharm will surely fail when the mind is at war with itself, being that the critic mind cannot be silenced as it could be by a Runespoor, which is seen as the origin to the number. Memory Charms and Memory-Modifying Charms can also benefit from this number. Although the mind always remains a tricky matter to cast upon. Many have searched for a true Wit-Enhancement Charm, but so far the only one to achieve that feat has been the legendary Rowena Ravenclaw, who used said Charm on the lost diadem. The knowledge to the charm has gone lost with the item in question and Ravenclaw's unfortunate early demise.'

I can't resist a cough here. 'Look at the loss of knowledge that stupid Founders' fetish of yours resulted in,' I sigh.

'I wasn't the one who destroyed the item, my darling.'

'You destroyed it the moment you violated it with such dark magic.'

'You are assuming Ravenclaw didn't use dark magic to create the diadem,' Voldemort says calmly, 'which considering the nature of the volumes that even name the numeric sequencing knowledge is a big if, Hermione. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if the diadem was constructed with dark magic. Or didn't you pay attention in History of Magic? I know Binns is boring, but his subject certainly is very enlightening at times.'

'This is a pointless discussion,' I state, 'because we can never be sure for real.'

'But you got to admit it is an intriguing concept, Hermione, a former Founders' item being mentioned in a Dark Arts Volume such as this. Besides, don't tell me you find the contents of this book not worthy of existence or something that should be banned, like it was in your days at Hogwarts?'

He's got me there, because if there is one thing I have always been against it is the banning of books. 'Did you ever use this theory in any of the spells you created?' I ask, appealing to his vanity as a diversion.

'Using the number nine in sequence when casting Fiendfyre creates very interesting results,' he says without elaborating.

'Nine?' I think puzzled. 'Nine … known for its poisonous attributes.'

'Indeed.'

But I really don't see the point there, because who needs poison when you've got a blazing fiery anim… And my eyes widen when I realise the purpose of using nine. In Ancient Runes the number nine is resembled by the Hydra! If you use nine in your casting of Fiendfyre it will take the Hydra's form. Not a pleasant sight to see charging at you. Of that I am sure, remember Crabbe's botched up attempt. I wonder if the breath of the Fiendfyre Hydra would also be poisonous.

'Oh yessss, if you cast it in the correct intervals.'

'Oh, that's – that's just … overkill.'

'That is one way of putting it. I personally prefer calling it an added bonus. But can't you figure out another reason for using the number nine?'

I frown. A Fiendfyre Hydra… the nine heads … cut one off and you get two new ones in its place, but you can't cut off heads of a Fiendfyre creature, because the fire roars and bellows around anyway. So that is useless…'

'You were close,' Voldemort interrupts, when I want to move on to other possibilities.

'Close? I was close with the cutting off the heads?' I ask, confused, because it makes no sense whatsoever.

But now, there is no response to my question. It remains tauntingly silent inside of me. Jerk.

'Cutting off the Hydra Heads...?' I stare at the ceiling. 'It is fire. You can't cut through fire. You can extinguish it, though it will take some doing to extinguish Fiendfyre, but it…' And I slam my hand in front of my mouth. 'Using nine makes the Fiendfyre inextinguishable to anyone…'

'…beside the caster,' Voldemort finishes, and I can sense how pleased he is. 'I knew you'd figure it out quickly, Hermione.'

'Nine ensures the Hydra's immortal head will preserve the state of the Fiendfyre you cast, but how do you extinguish it yourself then?' I ask.

'By re-sequencing,' we both answer simultaneously in my head.

I feel very happy to have solved it. This really is useful information. And I continue reading the book quickly. When I am done, I slam it shut contemplatively. I can see so many practical uses for this theory, but this book doesn't even begin to scratch the surface. It's actually a bit of a disappointment. It's only listing a couple of Arithmancy options without thoroughly acknowledging the Ancient Runes theories, which really lay behind it all. Oh, it's mentioned here and there, but the book is fixating on the Divination with numbers' parts of Arithmancy, while you could use the ordering of the numbers in a much more useful manner to enhance Spells, if you combine the entirety of Ancient Runes into this and not just mention it as an occasional example.

'I was wondering if you would notice that,' Voldemort's soul speaks up. 'It's because of this omission why mistakes are made when people follow this theory blindly. It's also why so many people think this book is rubbish, because the rules in this book won't always work, since Ancient Runes is the true foundation of it, not Arithmancy.'

'Yes,' I begin ranting enthusiastically, 'if you take the Ancient Runes' meanings of the numbers and use the numbers accordingly to that in your ordering of the charms you can create much more force behind them. The Graphorn's hide is known to repel spells, so number two can make an Impervius or a Protego much more effective. And think about all the good you could do with Healing Charms if you use six in them. The restorative properties of the Salamander's blood are legendary, but you can replace it simply by using this theory. Eight can help with anything you need to reveal that is hidden… every Revelio will reach further than it would without it. And the Demiguise's ability to make itself invisible could make a Dissillusionment Charm work fully… oh no, you can't sequence zero. Damn.'

'So don't sequence it.'

'That's how you make yourself invincible without showing the usual flicker of disturbance on the objects behind you!' I reply amazed.

Voldemort shrugs my shoulders. 'It's the easiest charm to enhance of them all.'

'And it is due to zero's basic properties that a Dissillusionment Charm is already pretty difficult to detect on its own,' I reply thoughtfully.

'Exactly, not many people understand the power of numbers in the spells they cast. It can take disastrous turns like some fools have already proven in the past,' he states annoyed.

I raise my eyebrows. That sounded as if he was referring to something that hindered him in the past considerably and something like it could be useful information for me. I wonder… Wait a second, the number three!

'Granger,' his voice states alarmed in my head. 'I wouldn't go there if I were…'

'Legilimency,' I cast triumphantly, in a triangular sequence.

Three kneeling bodies are on the ground before me. They are my most loyal servants: Rabastan, Rodolphus and Bellatrix. They are in rags and look horribly, while I stroll casually around them, twirling my wand in my long, spidery fingers contemplatively. My eyes turn back to the wall I so recently blasted into oblivion. A smile forms on my face as I see the sky above the ocean is swarming with Dementors, forming a barrier no Auror will be able to penetrate tonight. My old allies have returned to me, as I knew they would. Not that I need to worry about Aurors, because Fudge is such a fool. He will probably blame Black for this, like Potter's little friend could accomplish this feat. My cold laugh resonates loudly through the remains of the wizarding prison. I will enjoy reading the ministerial rubbish the Daily Prophet will print tomorrow. But still, I have to deal with the three idiots on the floor first.

'You have let me down, Bella,' I state coldly. 'You all let me down.'

A shiver runs through Rabastan Lestrange, but as I expected Bella is the one to respond with her usual devotion, thinking that will make up for her errors.

'My Lord, we were trying to locate your physical body. Frank Longbottom was the Auror in charge of disposing of it. So we tortured his wife to make him tell, but he still refused.'

'So you thought making him insane as well would help him remember to tell you were to find it,' I sneer.

'He wasn't supposed to go insane,' Bella responds weakly, glancing at her husband.

'We had barely cast the Cruciatus Curse on him and he went insane almost instantaneously, Master,' Rodolphus adds desperately.

Pathetic, they really are pathetic. 'Let me guess,' I snarl menacingly, having already seen the events in their little minds. 'The FOUR of you took turns in casting the curse and upon the FOURTH time he went insane.'

It remains silent.

'Did you forget the rules I gave you on how to properly apply the Cruciatus Curse?' I quietly speak. 'Or did you think you could abandon them, because I was not present at the time?'

'No, my Lord, we wanted you back. We were in a hurry and we thought...'

'Crucio!' I cast, because I really never, ever allow morons to do any thinking. It's due to their idiocy that I remained without a body for thirteen years. Thirteen! A deep fury builds up inside of me and I aim at the next one.

A gasp escapes my lips when I suddenly see the study chamber again. Voldemort has kicked me out of his memory. 'Impressive Granger, but I recommend you do not try that again, unless you want to invoke my wrath,' he quietly states.

But I pay no attention to the voice and it becomes solemnly silent inside of me, while I consider what it means that I just saw. They cast the Cruciatus Curse in a numeric fourth sequence on Neville's father. I close my eyes. The song of the Fwooper causes insanity. Inadvertently, the Death Eaters prevented themselves from ever given Frank Longbottom even the slightest opportunity to give in to them and tell them where the body was located. Although, I sincerely doubt he would have told them anyway, if Neville's brave character was anything to go by. This… All this is just plain horrific. I know that is how I should feel about it, but what is disturbing me most is that it isn't affecting me as it used to do. The Dark Arts keep on drawing me in further.

And I keep on reading their theories and I actually enjoy talking with Voldemort about them. I see the books on the shelves that I have already read and I can feel their influence now. I can feel the darkness ensnaring me. For a second I glance at the useless Amulet that is still hanging around my neck. Curiosity, surely, did kill the cat. I see the red file with my name on it. It's still lying on the table. Somehow, it seems to be calling to me, but I ignore it. Professor Dumbledore was right not to trust me. I cannot be trusted. I have always been drawn to the dark side. I can still see Draco's face after "little Draco" turned just into that ... little. Extremely little. A snort escapes my lips and I start giggling. I wonder how he managed himself in the Slytherin's showers after a Quidditch match, because I know for sure who would have come in last after a measuring contest.

'Daddy dearest paid for a private shower, so it would not reflect back on him,' Voldemort responds and I notice he is snickering too.

Now, I roar with laughter. My 'little' curse made Lucius Malfoy afraid that people would gossip and spread the word around that Draco's small accessory was genetic? If I would have known that at the time, I would have enjoyed it even more. It's hilarious.

'If you think that was funny, Hermione, then you really should have seen the look on Parkinson's face when she tried to get some from Draco and cast their clothes away before he could stop her.'

'No!' I shout out loud in joy. 'Oh, I can't believe I missed that,' I say disappointed.

'I still have Draco's memory of it,' Voldemort teases, 'care to witness it?'

'Yes,' I reply excitedly. 'No,' I add shocked, realising what I was about to do. It would be such an invasion of their privacy and it is not like it is information that I need to know, even if it is very, very tempting to take a peek at something that entertaining.

'Your loss,' Voldemort says casually, 'but Parkinson did make quite a legendary remark about needing a magnifying glass and there was some wisecrack about a lollipop, before she left.'

I start laughing again. I really shouldn't, but I am. I used an irreversible Dark Arts Curse that could have got me a one-way ticket to Azkaban if Draco had had the nerve to tell on me. But he never dared. He was such a coward and I made sure he knew his size would be front page news on the Daily Prophet should I ever see the inside of the Wizengamot over this. So I got away with pretty much screwing over any chance of him ever getting any at all.

'And let's not forget you protected the world from having to deal with more Malfoy offspring, since Lucius dabbled with the wrong curse and sterilised himself,' Voldemort says snickering. 'No more whining cowardly blonds… Hooray to that! You deserve a medal for special services to society, Granger. Really, you should have heard how Abraxas could whine when his mummy forgot to send him his sweets. But he learnt to stop doing that around me pretty quickly after I gave him something real to whine about.'

'He sterilised himself by botching up a curse?' I snort, still not over the fact the high-and-mighty Lucius Malfoy goofed up so badly. 'No wonder he had so much resentment against Arthur Weasley.'

This is all very enjoyable. I am laughing my head off. I can so…

A flash of light comes from the file on the table; my file. Stunned, I stare at it as it opens on its own accord and I see how the page turns blank after which new words erupt on it. Carefully, I walk toward the table and start reading.

Dear Hermione,

I've enchanted this file to show you this letter the moment you would be alone with this file and in need of this information. If you are reading this now, it must mean that things didn't work out as I hoped they would and I must have failed you and Harry.

First of all, I want to apologise for some of the things I wrote down in this file about you. I am sure Lord Voldemort must have let you read some of my nasty comments to sway you to join him, but you have my word those comments are not representative of my true feelings about you. I have always seen you as one of the brightest, most intelligent and loyal witches whom I ever had the pleasure of knowing. I know you are the best friend Harry was fortunate enough to have and I may not have credited you enough for everything you've done over the years, because I feared it would draw unwanted attention to you from the one person you are, no doubt, fighting right now.

I am aware that on many occasions you have prevented disaster to happen and I duly apologise for not having done something about the woman you so eloquently called 'The Toadface' at the time. Although, I have a feeling the name might have been Ron Weasley's invention? You will probably realise now why my focus was elsewhere, but you were right when you said that the students' wellbeing was my first responsibility and that I failed to do a proper job as Headmaster if I did not stop Dolores from torturing the students.

In hindsight I should have done just that and not focus on the whereabouts of Voldemort's Horcruxes alone. I knew the Ministry was planning to take over Hogwarts and I did not want to give them the ammunition to do it sooner, but I should have taken her out of the equation. Anybody else would have been an improvement. And the Ministry's actions were inevitable anyway. So you were perfectly justified with your complaints to me at the time. And I must admit I applaud your forwardness and your bravery in standing up for your fellow students, because you were the only one who confronted me with the fact that I was not approaching the matter correctly.

So, after reading this, you are probably wondering why I felt the need to make a fake student file of you. And my answer will be most unsatisfying, because the truth is I was asked to do so by the lead Knight of Silence. Knowing you, I am probably telling you something you already read somewhere, but the Knights are a powerful monk community in Tibet whom represent Light magic. I was not in the position to ignore the request when it was made, since I owe them a lifelong wizarding debt. They are the ones who saved me from darkness and without them I would have never seen Gellert in the light I should have seen him in from the start. My love for him blinded my moral judgement and to this day it is still hard for me to remember how close I came to fall into that abyss myself.

I know you recognise that abyss, Hermione. I know it had to have been you who cursed Draco. But I've also seen how you grew and fought off the darkness that is a part of all of us. Only for some of us that fight is harder, because the temptation is so great when you have the magical power to control and use it thoroughly. So your ability to control and suppress your dark side at such a young age truly impressed me and I have every faith in you and your determination to continue to control the darkness.

But I am straying from the real issue here: your file. I handed the Knight your real Hogwarts' student file and replaced it by this phoney one with the comments as he requested. Of course I asked him why he felt these changes were imperative, but all I got was one of his usual puzzling remarks. 'She, who is the one, will know why. It is not up to us to decide.'

If you ever meet them, or have met them, you will know those kind of aggravating remarks are somewhat their trademark reference. I am sorry to say I lost track of the number of times I blew up that white building of theirs when I lived there. However, I felt very uncomfortable leaving a file behind that I felt was unjustified, so I left you this message and with it comes the power to proof this file is false, should future circumstances ever require it.

I knew when you first came to Hogwarts you had a magical connection to Lord Voldemort. I was already informed of this by the same Knight. It was the reason that for a moment I was concerned he might have taken you over and opened the Chamber of Secrets through you during your second year at Hogwarts. I am positive you remember our conversation in the library and my rather crude invasion of your privacy, even though you did not notice it at the time. Fortunately, Tom's obsession with immortality and Harry caused him to miss out on the connection that exists between you both when he inhabited Professor Quirrell's body during the end of your first year.

Now, Magical counterparts are a very rare phenomenon. The only other one known in history is the one between Merlin and Viviane. And little is known about their relationship, since all that remains from that era is Merlin's book and a lot of myths and legends that even contradict one another. I am sure you would love to know how Viviane had concurred Merlin, but she never told a soul. I know you must have researched everything about it, just as I did, and I am positive Voldemort will have done the same when he found out about your connection. I gather you both came up with similar results as I have; meaning pretty much nothing.

However, I believe the Knights of Silence may have the information you need. To this day they still remain silent about it to me and refused to explain the matter, but on the day I left the monastery one of the monks followed me out and said something to me I didn't understand at the time and still don't. I hope it will make sense to you, because this much I do know … it involves you, Hermione.

"For a decade Darkness will rule and Everon will rise. A choice must be made by the Founder of SPEW. She alone beholds the key to ultimate victory for one. Everon will rise."

I am sorry I can't be of more help to you, because as much as I researched everything on Everon I came up empty-handed. I hope you are able to somehow speak with one of the monks about this, and I hope they will be a bit more forthcoming to you as they were to me.

Wishing you all the best,

Albus Dumbledore.

Suddenly, the letter disappears to be replaced by its original text and the file closes up again.

'Well, that was insightful,' Voldemort mocks inside of me, 'it's a good thing Dumb-bore took all sorts of precautions to prevent me from reading that. It really worked out great,' and he snorts loudly. 'Like I ever took his unusual conclusions and observations about you seriously in the first place, but I gotta say it is interesting to hear who was truly behind it all. I am so glad I killed the little manipulative bugger.'

'Everon? Ultimate victory for one?' I think and I look thoughtfully at the Amulet. 'Not to me,' Maglor said when Voldemort asked him whether it was going to be a problem that he fumbled around with the powers of the Amulet of Aine.

'The Elders wanted me to let you know that you will always be welcomed back in Everon with the highest regards, Miss Granger,' Silimaurë says, making a small bow to me, and with a devious, Elfish wink he disappears with a loud crack.

The Elders had not said a single word to me, while I was there. And all of the sudden, I would be welcomed back with the highest regards? They despised me. I could feel it. Maglor was the only one of the Elves who even spoke to me. 'Everon will rise.' Somehow, it comes across as ominous to me.

'A bunch of elves are not an issue for the both of us. I think the more pressing matter is the …,' Voldemort starts.

It's when the door opens and Alphonse Mulciber walks in, causing Voldemort to halt whatever he was planning to say to me. I look up from the couch at the Death Eater, whose eyes are darting the room like he is searching for something. A wary feeling begins to grow inside of me and I realise the emotion is not coming from me, but from Voldemort's soul. I arch an eyebrow because of it, and I stare at Mulciber who still isn't speaking, but he is standing there, tapping with his hand on his leg.

'Can I help you?' I sneer condescendingly.

'Is the Dark Lord in?' Mulciber asks, and he throws a barely veiled demeaning glance at me.

'How should I know?' I retort, irritated. 'I am neither his travel planner nor his keeper.'

And I see how his hand stops tapping and he starts rubbing his neck. Somehow, he comes across as somewhat indecisive to me. I don't know why, but…

'Get on your feet, Granger, and watch out. He is planning something,' Voldemort, suddenly, says.

'What? Surely, he is not that stupid,' I respond in my mind, a bit dumbfounded, but I rise from the couch just the same.

'Do not underestimate Mulciber, Granger, he is not a magical dolt like the others,' sounds through my skull at the same time as Mulciber starts to talk again.

'So, you are alone here, Mudblood,' Mulciber says menacingly.

'Oh dear, such an original insult, I am all devastated and destroyed now. I'll go run away and cry in the other room now,' I mock.

'If you are trying to aggravate him to curse you, Granger, may I remind you that I am inside of you, so that magical pathway might not respond as it normally would. Whatever curse he casts is probably going to hit you now,' Voldemort says warningly.

'Shut up, I can't think if you are continuously interrupting me,' I mentally hiss back.

'Everyone knows that it is not exactly crying what the Dark Lord's whore does in the 'other' room,' Mulciber sneers back.

I feel a fury rise inside of me that isn't mine. 'Stay out of this,' I warn Voldemort, who I can hear mumbling something about insolent Death Eaters.

'Are you now accusing me of servicing the Dark Lord?' I ask Mulciber smirking, and I fold my arms over each other and cock my head before continuing in the same demeaning tone of voice. 'From the two of us here in the room, which one has a sign of ownership on his arm? But I'll give you points for originality. Nobody else has had the nerve to call me a whore before. Especially not after what happened to Lestrange, but maybe you have a death wish?'

A wand appears in Mulciber's hand. 'I don't know how you do it, Mudblood, but ever since you arrived here people keep dying, because of you.'

'Maybe they died, because they weren't too bright,' I hear my mouth move.

'Get out, move, you can't take over now,' I hiss, and I focus to regain back the control over my body. 'Occlumency,' I cast, adding the power of three to it.

I might as well use the knowledge I just gained. And it works! My body and mind is once again under my control.

'Maybe they died, because somehow you found a way to cloud the Dark Lord's judgement,' Mulciber responds.

Now, I start laughing.

'Laugh all you want, Granger, but I heard the rumours and I have seen first hand his responses to you aren't normal.'

I scratch my head. This actually is very amusing, because as far as I can tell I had zero effect on the man. He still tortures and kills. He found a way to fool the Amulet, so he didn't have to feel remorse for his deeds. He ripped his soul again. He turned me into a Horcrux. Oh joy! Yeah, that is all totally abnormal and out of character for him. 'You are seeing things,' I say snorting.

'So my wife's death never happened,' Mulciber speaks, while narrowing his eyes at me.

Finally, the cat is out of the bag. 'So that's what this is about,' I reply calmly. 'You should ask the person responsible and stop bothering me.'

I pretend to turn my back to him, so I see the movement and dive over the couch just before the curse blasts it to smithereens. 'Stupify!' I reply wandless, but it rams Mulciber's very adequate shield instead.

He smirks. 'I know my wife, Eveline. She would have never done anything against the Dark Lord's will!' he shouts, while casting a curse that I divert easily.

'Expelliarmus!' I cast.

Mulciber flies through the room and hits the wall, but he's still able to hold on to his wand. Damn, that man is good.

'Will you stop casting these useless charms and bloody do what you are truly capable off,' Voldemort snarls, while Mulciber's curse connects with mine and sparks are electrifying the air around us. He breaks the connection first and dives out of the path of my curse, while casting the Cruciatus Curse as he rolls over the ground. It almost hits me.

'Watch it, Granger,' Voldemort hisses.

The curses are now flying back and forth effortlessly, and mine are becoming darker and darker by the second. The power inside me grows and I begin to laugh, while waving Mulciber's curses away lazily. I am not even moving anymore. Gosh, this is so easy. My cold laugh is infuriating the Death Eater beyond belief and he growls, while trying an Imperio. It's Mulciber's trademark curse. It's what he does best, so I let it hit me, and then … I wink at him to mock his skill.

'Maybe you should practise first before trying,' I suggest quietly. 'Or you should have used that feeble mind of yours before attacking someone with superior skills.'

'He killed my wife, and now, I will kill his whore!' Mulciber snarls.

My eyes flash.

'Avada Kedavra!'

Simultaneously, the Killing Curses get casts. It's invigorating as it leaves my hand. The sheer power is thrilling. I take great delight in the casting of this curse. And I witness how two green jets of light pass each other, but only one hits its alleged target, because I calmly step out of its path, while Mulciber drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Coldly, I stroll over to the lifeless body and look down upon the empty eyes that stare towards me. So, this is what true power feels like. I examine my emotions as I look at the man I killed. Ain't I supposed to be sorrowful or sad now? Ain't I supposed to feel something, anything? I killed a human being and it really doesn't make me hot or cold. Frankly, I just don't care. I shrug my shoulders and turn around. I need to go to Tibet and visit the Knights of Silence.

'Bad idea, Hermione, I think we will stay here,' Voldemort replies softly. 'Your birthday is coming up and my other self has a nice surprise for you.'

'I think the Everon thing Dumbledore referred to is important, and I am going to find out what it means,' I say certain.

'You think the Knights will talk to you?' Voldemort asks, and he is shaking my head. 'All they ever do is give people meaningless riddles, even Dumby agrees with me on that.'

'I need to know what those sentences mean, and I have a feeling it is important for you to know too,' I rebut.

'The only sentence I care about is the one which stated you were the key to ultimate victory, my dear Hermione, and since you are mine, it is obvious what the sentences meant. Everon will rise and we will be victorious,' he states smugly. 'I will rejoice in blasting those elves away. And I made a promise with myself to make a nice Horcrux upon Maglor Silimaurë's death. So I feel we don't need to go anywhere.'

'Too bad, because I feel we do and I am leaving.'

'I won't allow you, my dear.'

'It's not up to you, darling,' I reply, matching his smugness. 'You can't stop me. Remember that little tale you told me in the garden of your late father's house after we had sex the first time? How you went on about how your mind controls your magic and depends on your body's independence? Well, I didn't want to disturb your little victory streak back then, so I am sorry to break it to you now, but you left out a very significant detail there. You see it's not only the mind and the body that are responsible for the control someone has over his magic. You forgot about something vital. Something that Merlin identified as love, but it is more than love alone. It is the one thing you so casually keep ripping apart. It's mind, body and soul, dearest. The power of those three combined is what really gives a person the biggest control over their magic. We have given each other our body, so that basically balances out any advantage, but you freely handed me half of your soul, the very essence of your being. So I think you won't be able to stop me. I truly have the advantage here.'

Without waiting for his response, I spin on the spot, and with a crack, I Apparate to Tibet. A strange smile graces my face as I see the familiar building. I don't have to wait long before one of the monks welcomes me.

'Hermione, it's good to see you again. Yoda told us you would come.'

My eyes darken, but I nod courteously. 'It's good to hear I am expected. I need to speak to whoever is in charge now,' I order coldly.

'Naturally, if you follow me?'

And we quietly move along the familiar paths towards the main building.
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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory