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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
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- 4
Beta: Serpent In Red
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I, Horcrux
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Chapter Three
Disbelieving red eyes watched as Harry Potter was pushed aside from the path of his Killing Curse.
This is not happening. Not again!
But then, he could see Potter stumble and push back.
There was something really wrong with Gryffindors and their maniac need for jumping in front of his curses.
He felt the curse linger and then push back at him. Again. Lord Voldemort vowed he'd take a much closer look to the usage of the Avada Kedavra curse—that was if he survived.
The illuminating green light sped towards him and then …
He could feel it. Not the curse but something go off in his brain, like a dam broke and the water mass dashed forward, filling his mind. Only, it wasn't water. Lord Voldemort could see and feel memories that definitely weren't his own.
And then everything went black.
xxx
With fear gripping his throat, Lord Voldemort quickly got up—he would not be sitting on the ground like some graceless muggle—and looked around.
He wasn't dead as he could feel something tugging him back—Nagini—anchoring his soul to the world of the living.
With that thought, Voldemort was able to push the fear and terror behind his Occlumency walls and take a deep breath.
What happened? And what was this thing doing inside his head?
Tentatively, he reached towards the link that was now connecting his mind to the newly acquired memories and pulled.
Time froze as he watched a young child beg her parents for a new book; watched said girl now older jumping around her home clutching a Hogwarts acceptance letter to her chest; and the Sorting Hat yelling Gryffindor—but of course, what other house could it be? Sacrifices and all.
He was watching her every move, feeling her every emotion, and only as her name was called forward during the Sorting Feast did he understand just whose memories he now had full access to.
Hermione Granger.
Potter's Mudblood.
Voldemort was about to withdraw when something stopped him. Something was now pulling him deeper, bringing up memories that were of an older person.
Something was making him watch, desperately holding him tight, not letting him retreat to his own mind. As if afraid that he would leave without seeing what this something needed him to see.
Voldemort would have tried to struggle even if the magic pulling him in wasn't hostile in the least—quite opposite actually, eerie familiar—but then suddenly, before he could even try, new images were brought before his eyes.
In increasing disbelief and horror, he watched the Mudblood destroy his Horcrux . His Cup!
It seemed like the hold on him tightened and this something—he'd identify it later—was now pushing thoughts and images as quickly as it could towards him. Desperate.
And then he saw it.
No…
Dumbfounded and disbelieving, in a stupor-like trance, Voldemort saw it all.
Genuine fear, cold like nothing he had felt before, gripped his heart and squeezed.
With almost all his Horcruxes destroyed, with genuine Deathly Hallows scattered around Hogwarts' perimeter and the realization that Potter, Harry-fucking-Potter was his Horcrux … Voldemort needed to sit for he was sure his legs would give up now.
How could he have been such a blind fool?
Everything, absolutely everything was right in front of his own eyes. All this time his own Horcrux—his own soul, dammit—was inside of Potter and he hadn't known.
And then realization—so powerful and so sickening that Voldemort just had to sit down on the white marble floor—hit him.
Hadn't it been for the Mudblood, he would have been destroyed.
His soul was trembling with sick panic as he pieced everything he had seen in the Mudblood's mind together.
A malfunctioning Elder wand, his unknown Horcrux in Potter, the Resurrection stone—the same stone he had turned into a Horcrux without even considering the possibility that it was one of Deathly Hallows!—Potter's Invisibility Cloak—another Hallow, the prophecy…
How the mighty have fallen.
There had always been only one person he had complete trust in—himself.
What was there to say about the world, if he, Lord Voldemort, had managed to make so many foolish mistakes? Mistakes, he could now see, that could have been easily avoided if only he had stopped and looked closer.
Did the breaking of his soul really have such damaging consequences on his sanity and his brilliant mind—his greatest treasure besides his magic—or he simply had lost his touch?
But no matter, no matter.
He was going to fix all this mess he had created.
And it was all thanks to the Mudblood.
How ironic.
Voldemort stood up from the ground—he'd take a much closer look at every little detail later, for now was not the time to brood. Having full grasp on his raging emotions helped to clear this turbulent mind.
He could sense something calling him, something urging him forward. Something so familiar …
His magic.
A second later, the air was filled with most chilling, victorious laughter that boomed around the now shaking form of the Dark Lord, who had his head thrown back and arms spread wide, red eyes closed.
A genuine smile appeared on the Dark Lord's face as he finally calmed down.
For he understood what this something was.
It was time.
xxx
Hermione felt like she was sitting on a rollercoaster in Disneyland—a memory of a long ago when she was just a child—a rollercoaster that was about to plunge down without any restrain.
This time, however, there was no safety belt around her torso.
Not that it would have helped.
A force so powerful, so intoxicating, so evil was now quickly approaching and the only thing she could do was watch with tunnel-vision, as if sucked into a tube, the form of the Dark Lord materialize on the destructed platform.
There was only one person possessing such horrendous magic, and he was now here.
"Well, well, well," a cold, serpentine voice exhaled, "what do we have here?"
xxx
Lethally deranged, but at the same time unbelievingly lucid, red eyes danced from the crouching form of Dumbledore—but of course, who else but the meddling old fool—to the terrified green eyes of his biggest mistake—Potter—and then they landed on her.
Voldemort could see his shard pulsate in anticipation inside the girl's mind. Just for a second, he allowed himself the pleasure of just watching a part of his soul shimmer and blaze, interflowing with the girl's magical core.
Fascinating.
But it could wait. There were matters at hand much more pressing and later, after dealing with this mess, he would take the girl's mind apart piece by piece, not allowing any small detail to pass him.
No more mistakes.
xxx
"Tom," Dumbledore greeted his former student, suddenly feeling old and powerless when red eyes met his in a silent duel. Maybe not everything was lost…
Just maybe...
"Dumbledore," a whispered hiss that contained just the right amount of leniency, dark amusement, and contempt.
Bright red eyes with snake-like pupils roamed over the now flickering form of the Headmaster.
"You look good—" Voldemort's eyes actually twinkled. "—dead."
"What are you doing here?" Harry's scream came out more like a bark, his voice raw with hatred and pain. "Why don't you just fucking die?!"
"One shouldn't be rude, Harry," Voldemort admonished with a tilt of his head. "I could ask you the same question, Harry. Why do you still live?"
Before Harry Potter had any chance to open his mouth, an impatient hand made a halting gesture.
"It was a rhetorical question, Harry, no need to overwork yourself." His tone mocking, Voldemort let his eyes wander from Potter's outrageous expression to the still form of Dumbledore. "I simply could not resist the temptation of seeing your merry band of self-sacrificing fools gathered together in this most pleasurable environment—" His voice gained a dangerous, hissing undertone, once his gaze was directed at Dumbledore. "—for the last time."
"I must admit I fail myself at loss at—" Dumbledore took a step forward, his hands clasped together in front of his robes. "—how is it exactly that you are here?"
When you shouldn't be, was left unsaid but apprehended by everyone present.
"Surprised? You should be." Voldemort tsked and slowly nodded his head a few times, as if pondering. "I know I was. And you do know how I despise surprises, old man, don't you?"
Tom is too calm, too composed for someone who was hit back by a once again reflected Killing Curse, Dumbledore thought gravely. Either Tom was too far gone to understand everything that had transpired, or …
The smile he received in return cemented his doubts, propelling panic and guilt to new levels.
Just how much did he understand?
xxx
Hermione Granger, for the first time in her life, was so horrified that she had remained silent.
It wasn't the horror of seeing an active Dark Lord with her own eyes for the first time, nor did it have anything to do with their current predicament.
Hermione Granger stayed silent since the arrival of Voldemort and throughout the conversation because she was busy dealing with emotions inside of her own mind. Emotions that she sure as hell wasn't experiencing herself.
Hate.
Rage.
Glee.
For a second, Hermione wished to believe those were her emotions, as they would have fit the situation—except the last. But with startling clarity, Hermione had to acknowledge that those were not her emotions that were flowing over her like a roaring waterfall.
Those were His.
No, no, no … Anything but this, please, Hermione prayed, sick to the core with realization as to why she could feel the Dark Lord's current emotions.
It isn't real.
This monster, this creature, this …
"Now, now, Miss Granger—"
Suddenly she felt as if she was under a microscope—like a small, twitching bug—for those red unforgiving eyes were now piercing through her, pinning her to the ground.
"—what did I say about being rude?"
But … she didn't say anything!
"Be quiet, little girl."
She wanted to yell "I'm not a little girl!" but she noticed the Headmaster's uneasiness and Harry's unmistakable shudder at Voldemort's words.
All-out comprehension came so suddenly that Hermione thought her heart stopped beating for a second.
Parseltongue.
And she could understand it.
The Horcrux is in me, she finally admitted to herself.
She could feel his eyes—so inhumanly red eyes—watch her intently.
Red eyes are not normal.
"Normal is overrated, Miss Granger." His usually cold voice sounded a bit different, more sibilant, and with a light note of amusement.
Did … did he just crack a joke?!
Thin, pale lips stretched into a sly smirk and Hermione screamed.
xxx
Distant but sharp ringing could be heard from somewhere far away, yet its intensity made everyone present aware that the time here was coming to an end.
Sand started seeping through the walls and the roof; the white marble tiles on the floor were now laced with scattered, uneven, ragged cracks; and the fog was getting thicker.
"You have lost, you senile old fool. You should have kept your endless meddling to yourself." Voldemort now took a fluent but challenging step forward, looking directly into Albus Dumbledore's eyes. "But no, you really had the audacity to stick your long nose into my business, didn't you?"
The walls were now crumbling and the ringing became more urgent.
"I want you to know that I am truly sorry for one thing only, Albus."
Suddenly, Voldemort appeared near Hermione and grabbed her hand, pulling her up. The cold fingers circled around her wrist like a serpent—cold and extremely tight. She couldn't move and it was becoming difficult to breathe because the Dark Lord's aura was suffocating her from the outside and his Horcrux's maddening thrashing from the inside. She was ready to pass out.
He was so close that Hermione could feel the silky, shimmering material of his majestic robe pool over her fingers ; Voldemort was now standing behind her, his hold not lessening in the least.
Harry tried to move, to leap at this disgusting, demonic creature that was now holding Hermione by her wrist from behind , but a firm hand on his shoulder—even though flickering—managed to hold him away. The old Headmaster seemed abnormally serene now.
"And what would that be, Tom?" Albus asked in genuine interest, still not letting go of Harry and making him stay put.
The platform was now almost fully destroyed, only seconds were left, the ringing in the distance disappearing.
"My only regret is that I wasn't present to see your stupid face when you realized just how badly you managed to fuck it all up," Voldemort uncharacteristically barked in Dumbledore's face, his inhuman features morphing into a twisted smile full of pointed teeth, making him look more a creature than a man.
Hermione tried to move away, again, only for the grip to become inhumanly strong, almost bone-crushing. Had they been, well, alive, she was sure her wrist would have snapped already.
"Goodbye, Albus Dumbledore."
Harry finally managed to free himself and, with a maddening scream, leaped towards Voldemort and Hermione only to disappear into thin air. A bell suddenly rang and everything started to shake uncontrollably, columns falling and smashing into the smallest pieces of shimmering crystals before turning to ash.
Hermione's eyes met the teary, defeated gaze of the Headmaster who stood behind a destroyed column, pain and guilt twisting his old face. Her own freely cascading tears were blinding, emotions not letting her breathe properly, but she managed to hear a whisper of sincere "I am so sorry" before everything went black.
xxx
If the way "up " or wherever they had been transported to, had been incredibly fast and painless, then her way "back" wasn't anywhere close. Pain, impossible pain seared through her body as she felt a cold, damp ground beneath her cheek and hands.
Hermione tried to curl herself into a fetus position to somehow lessen the pain—even worse than from Bellatrix's Cruciatus!—but she could barely move her fingertips.
She was aware of the uproar around her; loud, agitated voices were coming closer and closer through the thick fog that Hermione couldn't clear her mind from.
Through the fog, Hermione heard the now familiar, cold voice shout, "Expelliarmus!"and not a second later, the same voice—"Accio Harry Potter's Invisibility Cloak!"
She could feel bile rising in her throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. She gasped for air.
Hermione could hear calm, unrushed footsteps approach her—everything around her was now eerily quiet.
How did she miss that?
Suddenly, she was pulled up from her comfortable position on the muggy forest soil by a pair of thin but strong arms. The last thing she saw before everything went black was a pair of astute, contemplative red eyes.
"Sleep, little girl."
A whispered hiss and Hermione knew no more.
xxx
AN: Well, here is chapter three. I try to keep everyone as much in character as possible. Hardest was Voldemort, but he's a genius Dark Lord and I am not ;)
Reviews are much appreciated.
Next chapter should be up soon. Waves!
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Two Steps From Hell