Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 30
- 31
- 32
a/n Right. So, here is the next chapter.
A lot of questions will be answered in this one. More answers will be in the next chapter, which will be so fun to write. Cannot wait.
Oh, and while I do name chapters randomly, more than often, it's with a meaning :)
Also, I'd like to point out- again- that I am not a chauvinist, racist, psychopath, or a junkie. However, if I feel that the character whose POV I write, has to say or do something offensive...Well, then he/she does. I need to keep the world I have created, real. And it's not pretty.
Julie beta-ed the last two chapters as well, so I'll replace them with the corrected files. No changes to the plot, only grammar. I suck at it.
Thank you for your reviews, guys! You make me happy and I need that :)
Voldemort vs Voldemort sounds interesting, doesn't it? XD
Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated as well, so don't hold yourself back ;)
Who is Pare after?... Please don't kill me :)
Enjoy and please review!
Story Beta: Serpent In Red
Beta: Julie. fjad (Thank you so much, Julie!)
Chapter Thirty One
These fucking stairs were never going to end.
Harry shook his head and stopped, leaning heavily on his arms and knees, with his tongue out. He really resembled a dog, he thought, and then suddenly he barked at the two people who kept staring at him as if he were insane.
Ahaha!
Harry sat down to one stair and took out his drink, the shiny, orange bottle shimmering lightly in the hot sun.
Fucking hell was it hot!
"Mister Potter, we should be going." The nasal voice, which belonged to his personal guide, made Harry clench his teeth together.
Was some peace too much to ask for?
"Well, if you should, then be my guest. If you're looking for directions, it's up, up and up," Harry drawled, not really feeling his jaw anymore.
Lucius should pay me for being the test-bunny on all the new drugs, he thought with a pleased smile.
He yawned before closing his eyes and lying flat on his back. Time to fly.
"Bzzzzzzzzzzz." He was a fly.
A dragonfly.
"Mister Potter, you're blocking the way. You cannot just lie like that on the stairs. What will everyone think?"
"You! You all!" Harry suddenly screamed, sitting up and looking around. "What are you staring at? I do what I want! Screw you all!"
"Mister Potter—"
"Fuck off!" Harry screamed, red faced, eyes crazy and body sweaty.
He darted up, running quickly up the endless stairs.
xxx
He was going to vomit all over the table, he was sure of that.
Fried insects on the plate and animal penis in the glass in front of him made his stomach turn and twist.
"I ain't gonna chew the cock. Animal or not, I have my standards," Harry managed to say it in one go, and he hoped the server understood him through the closed nose that he was holding with two fingers.
"The drink is believed to help with potency. It's very popular in Asia." The server's kindness was most likely due to the fact that Harry had a bag full with cash and it lay opened on the seat next to him. Voldemort had simply no interest in what Harry was doing, and so Harry did whatever he liked. The fact that his vault was full with Galleons really helped with the sightseeing.
In one week, he had spent over twenty thousand Galleons, and he hadn't even bought anything.
"My cock doesn't need a helping hand," Harry muttered under his nose, and took a sip of Chi-Cola.
Fifty percent cheaper than the price he was used to in Magical England, not that it mattered…
At least something was tasty in this teen-unfriendly country, that had strict laws on alcohol, drugs and even food. This wasn't what he had expected. He had to carry all his treasures with him.
If he was caught with his stock, he'd be executed on the spot.
All his magical mixtures were in his pocket—if you ask how then you're a Muggle—and Harry had never been so grateful to have this awesome gift.
It was different to be a wizard full-time. He could use his magic wherever he wanted and whenever he wanted. Magic was his salvation.
"Enjoy your meal, sir."
Harry was left alone with the bugs on the plate and cock in the glass.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
He should have asked what the dishes were before ordering the number he liked the most. Even if he was able to understand every word, it didn't mean he would know what "Crunchy Snack" stood for.
xxx
He did vomit all over the place—a thousand Galleon penalty—and when he finally gathered his strength to get up, it was evening already.
It must have been bull's cock, Harry decided as he wiped his mouth.
Yuck.
Slowly walking down the stairs—it would be easier to roll…Hmmm…—Harry stopped when he saw a few people stand near the parapets, selling souvenirs.
He should buy something for Hermione.
He had a lot of postcards, and all kinds of other junk, but he needed a birthday gift for his only friend.
Whoa, is that a necklace?
xxx
'No, the other one!'
'You don't have to scream, you know?'
'I have to if you're not listening. Change the rune, now!'
'No, I will not. It says in chapter twelve that the rune should be changed only after I add the trigger, and I haven't added it yet.'
'I am telling you, forget the book! I know better!'
'Shush now.'
'Fool!'
Hermione was sure she heard a mental door slam, as Dracula returned to his sad little corner inside her mind.
She could feel his urge to torture her— her hands were itching—, and the words he called her… Dracula was more emotional than Voldemort, even when it came to knowledge. And he wanted to Cruciate her so much right now that Hermione had to contain a chuckle.
Friends have to behave.
He wanted to be "friends", right?
She closed the book and rubbed her temples. She didn't know what caused the sudden friendship attempts here and there, but it was much easier to go through daily routine when Dracula behaved. His knowledge was greatly appreciated, but only when she asked for it.
She could do her homework herself, thank you very much.
Hermione added the trigger to the chain of charms, without changing the rune. A shining blue ball was slowly twirling between two invisible holders, and she marvelled at its beauty. This was magic pure, and it was ready for her to use it.
It was a magnificent example of how written knowledge was more important than any other.
Yes, Dracula was Voldemort but even he could be mistaken.
For a second Hermione stopped her thoughts and realised she had said "even". When did she start thinking that Voldemort knew everything? He did know much more than any other, and had the ability to cast such magic, but he had to make mistakes as well. Why did magic listen to him like no one else? Magic loved Voldemort and Voldemort loved magic.
It would have been interesting to watch squib Voldemort order everyone around.
Or squib Dracula. In his black robes and with his red eyes, Marvolo—nice, normal name—would have been put in a nuthouse before he could have caused himself or anyone around any damage. He'd probably kill himself, though. Hermione couldn't imagine eternal squib-Voldemort in a muggle institution for mentally ill and aggressive patients.
Then, when he would not age, they would start studying him.
Hermione bit back a laugh that almost escaped her as she imagined Voldemort in a straitjacket, hissing at his doctor who, unlike Cara, wouldn't appreciate crazy men.
A tear of laughter ran down her cheek and Hermione felt a nudge in her mind.
Dracula wasn't amused.
Nudge.
Definitely not.
His knowledge was as big as Voldemort's, and he was just as nasty. If not more…
Speaking of Voldemort…
Two weeks had gone by since he and Harry had left, and Hermione could only wonder what was going on. There had been no contact except for her birthday gift from Harry, that had been delivered to her from China.
Hermione played with the quadrate that hung around her neck on a thin leather rope. Harry's gift had been unexpected, but she had to admit she liked the necklace. It was square, with two large stones- black and white. There were no markings, and it wasn't magical, but somehow, Hermione felt better when she had it on.
Hermione had no idea where Harry had found such an interesting necklace. It didn't mean that she had forgiven her idiot friend for endangering his life again and again, though.
Voldemort had not given her anything, and Hermione would have been disappointed, had Dracula not given her the present instead.
She could choose one spell she wanted, and he'd share the knowledge with her. Permanently, not rented.
She had immediately asked for one spell—a curse—she wouldn't be able to learn on her own, as there was no information in any book. Dracula had refused her at first, but then he had suddenly agreed, making Hermione's suspicion rise to new levels.
She had asked for "Davine Ectra"— Voldemort's own creation that could not be blocked, and the same one he had used in France, during the Duel.
And now, Hermione knew how to cast it as well.
xxx
Hermione stepped out of the elevator and approached the dimmed corridor. The Excubitores, press, visitors— people were everywhere she looked, and Hermione stopped in her tracks.
What was going on?
'Did you do anything I should be aware of?' Hermione asked her silent 'friend', a familiar feeling of dread already coiling in her stomach.
'No.'
Well…
Andrea was by her side in a flash, and then she started to lead Hermione away, towards a closed door.
"Oh, Hermione, it's a nightmare. They all want information. It's not possible to work this way," Andrea Andersen said as she led a disbelieving Hermione down the stairs and towards another office.
"What happened, Andrea?" Hermione asked before a door was opened and she was lead into a bright room where Lucius Malfoy and Augustus Rookwood sat at the table, talking in hushed tones.
Blue eyes were wide as Andrea whispered, leaning closer to Hermione.
"Andromeda Tonks née Black has been murdered yesterday evening. Burned alive, apparently. Terrible." Andrea shook her head at the shocked Hermione and addressed the Minister.
"Minister Malfoy, Miss Granger is here to see you."
xxx
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star…"
A man with white spikes of hair sang in a slow, tender voice as the flames engulfed the house he was looking at.
The second daughter of the Swan had fulfilled her role.
She would be the first of the Blacks to pay for the father's sins, as her elder sister was still in Azkaban, and he was not allowed to touch her.
The only Black that was out of his reach.
xxx
Lucius had already told her everything there was to know about the sudden murder of the "blood-traitor" and Hermione felt the need to approach her old friends. Again.
She would if it would do any good, but not one of her old friends wished to talk to her when her face was on the covers of the newspapers, eating at the same table as Voldemort, Malfoy and Cara Pare.
Instead, she was in the Ministry of Magic, doing Merlin knows what.
She knew it was a stupid idea, but Dracula insisted and Hermione gave in.
They traded the niceties: he would get his visit to the Department of Mysteries—he refused to share the reason— and she would get to see Ginny at Hogwarts.
"Hermione, I apologize, but I cannot really let you into the Department of Mysteries." Lucius looked uncomfortable at her request, and Hermione wondered if Voldemort had prohibited her from entering.
'No.'
Well, if Dracula said so…
"He didn't say I cannot go there, did he, Lucius?" Hermione asked politely, with one eyebrow raised in silent challenge at the look Rookwood was giving her.
Malfoy shook his head and squinted his eyes at her. "That is correct."
"Then why cannot I go there?"
She didn't want to go there, but now it was a matter of principle.
Since Voldemort did not say 'No', Malfoy had no right to boss her around.
'Exactly'.
It would be too normal to have a conversation without him.
"I'll accompany Miss Granger," Rookwood suddenly offered and Hermione almost opened her mouth to say 'Thank you' when she heard Dracula.
'No.'
Well…
"He says 'no'." Hermione smiled a bit at Lucius and pointed towards her head.
It was kind of funny how quickly people could go white in the face.
xxx
'See me, hear me.'
"What did you say?" Hermione asked out loud when she heard the voice in her head. She wasn't surprised at the voice, as she was used to people talking inside her mind. Sometimes, Hermione felt her head was like a public toilet where everyone had free entrance and left souvenirs behind.
'I didn't say anything.' Dracula's reply was instant and alert.
'See us, hear us!'
Hermione felt her muscles tense when she realised it hadn't been Dracula talking. And Dracula now heard the voices too, more clearly as Hermione tentatively approached the Veil.
Dracula wanted her to stand near the Veil—not close enough to jump into it—and do nothing.
He had even more quirks than Voldemort.
She heard voices sing, cry and beg. She heard the whispers from the other side, and Hermione took a step back. Why couldn't she hear it before?
'We're done here.' He sounded pensive.
She stayed there for maybe ten minutes, but she felt…relaxed.
Not worried. Calm.
There was no need to try and pull the information from him if he wished to remain secretive, so Hermione took one more glance at the Veil and keeping her shuddering at bay, moved towards the exit.
The square white stone in the medallion glowed for a second without anyone paying it any attention.
xxx
It wasn't even funny anymore.
This girl had just way too many secrets that she had no clue about, and they were starting to drive him mad.
He had finally cracked one secret only for the next one to fly towards him.
The Mudblood was a born Necromancer. He had known two born Necromancers – Pare and Cygnus Black, and both had been purebloods. He truly had no idea how a Mudblood could be one as well.
Necromancy was a useful art, but he really didn't see it like Pare did, with all the 'helping lost souls' nonsense. Voldemort preferred to raise Inferi and zombies, but to guide lost —dead—souls…
That was why he wasn't a Mage.
And he wasn't a born Necromancer either.
True Necromancers were rare. Voldemort still did not understand what had happened to Cygnus to go berserk and kill Pare's family, but whatever it was, it showed him that Necromancers weren't very stable. And later, when he met Viscal, it wasn't a surprise anymore that the old man was all crazy in the head.
The Dark Lord—he had to call him something—had been right about his guess. He believed the girl to have special powers when it came to Necromancy, but without any proof it was just a guess.
And he now had seen—and heard— the proof.
How was it possible?
There was no way he was going to let her go now.
With Pare soon dead and with his soul sold to Lord Voldemort that would leave Hermione the only true Necromancer in Europe.
Well, well, well…
xxx
"Arigato."
The people were really unfriendly here, Harry thought as he looked at the pursed lips and clenched teeth.
"That's Japanese, Mister Potter, not Chinese."
Was there that big of a difference? They certainly weren't writing like everyone…Stick, stick, dot— who could read that? Especially after five pills of magical ecstasy.
Harry took one more glance at the security and approached the bell that was secured from all sides, not allowing anyone to come even one step closer.
The glass box in which the bell was being kept was simply huge, and the surface was so smooth and shiny that Harry desperately wanted to lick the glass.
"Mister Potter, it's not allowed to approach the Bell." His guide was going to end up dead, and not because of the heat. He'd murder him himself. Slowly.
"Ten thousand galleons?"
"Mister Potter, no amount of money would allow you to approach the bell."
"I'm here with Voldemort. That counts, right?" Yes, use your brain, Harry. Scare them all.
"Mister Potter, the Dark Lord is not interested in Muggle legends. This is a Muggle exposition, the bell has nothing magical in it." The guide was almost crying now.
"I still want to lick the glass," Harry answered as he stepped away from the glass cube with a bell in it.
He'd return tonight, without any "Mister Potters" in tow.
He was the Chosen One. It had to count for something, right?
xxx
Her hands were shaking and it was hard to swallow.
"Do you understand, Ginny? Not a word." Rabastan's voice sounded tender, but Ginny hated him with all her heart. Today was the first day she was allowed to be free of the lust potion, and she wanted to drown in her despair.
But she couldn't.
"First older brother, then mom. Remember that, my ginger," Lestrange whispered into her ear as he traced his wand on her neck.
Charlie…mom…
"I understand."
xxx
It was awkward talking to Ginny, and Hermione did not know what she could do for her friend.
"I'm alright, Hermione. Everything is okay." She heard the quiet whisper and Hermione pursed her lips in thought.
She knew Ginny wasn't alright. The last hour she had spent in the once-carefree girl's company, and she knew Ginny wouldn't tell her anything.
"Ginny—," Hermione did not know what to say and her heart hurt for the smaller girl whose bright red hair was tied into a loose ponytail, allowing the pale face and dull eyes to come forward. "Ginny, please talk to me."
"There is nothing to talk about, Hermione. Everything is alright with me." Ginny smiled a sad smile and Hermione lowered her eyes.
'She lies.'
Hermione's brows were drawn together as she thought about what Dracula had said.
How do you know, Hermione wished to ask but caught herself before she thought it outloud. He was Voldemort, and Voldemort was impossible to lie to. Or, to a sane Voldemort that is…
Severus Snape was an exception. Severus Snape had managed to lie to the Dark Lord and get away with it. Figuratively speaking.
The Potions Master was killed by Voldemort, but for different reasons.
However, Professor Snape had proved one important thing.
You can lie to Lord Voldemort.
'Severus was a mistake I will not repeat, Hermione. And trust me, Ginny Weasley is no Severus.' His laugh had a mocking note to it which she did not like.
'Stay out of it,' Hermione murmured in her head, trying not to listen to the voice that kept on, like the snake in the garden of Eden.
'Don't you want to know what she lies about? Don't you want to know what really bothers our sweet Ginny? Don't you want to help?'
Hermione knew it was wrong, but Dracula had been correct. Hermione felt she could help Ginny if she knew what was going on.
While her Occlumency knowledge was already very impressive, Legilimency wasn't something Hermione practised very often. And to imagine that she'd have to draw her wand on her friend…
Never.
'I don't need the wand, Hermione. Just make the eye contact and I'll help.'
Lord Voldemort—Horcrux or not— was not someone who helped without any ultimate goal.
'What do you want?' Hermione was talking to Dracula and simultaneously drinking the tea Hogwarts' house-elves had brought.
'We are friends, are we not?' She could hear a slight note of humour in his voice and Hermione smiled despite herself.
'I don't want to breach her privacy. Unlike you, I don't make a habit of rummaging through things that are not yours in the first place.'
Ginny did look really depressed—and Hermione had not even touched the topic of her family...or Arthur— and when Ginny swallowed the tea, looking away from Hermione's searching gaze, the older girl bit her lip.
'No, thank you.' Hermione decided it was not worth it to violate Ginny's trust for her own curiosity, no matter the good intentions.
Dracula was silent for a second before she heard his voice again and she knew he was smirking.
'Very well. It's your friend after all. If you don't want to know what Harry and Rabastan have done, then why should I try and persuade you?'
'Harry has seen Ginny?' Hermione asked quickly, trying to look normal while having a conversation in her own mind.
A soft laugh and then the hit.
'And Harry wasn't alone during the visit.'
Voldemort.
That was why Ginny was afraid to say anything, because this bastard threatened her family. Ginny was scared and Hermione could not blame her.
She'd have a talk with someone as soon as she left Hogwarts.
It had been Voldemort who had come with Harry and Hermione almost took out her wand when she remembered Dracula's offer.
For some unknown reason, Dracula was helping her.
And Voldemort probably did not know that.
She needed to know.
'Will Ginny know?' Hermione asked Dracula who was playing lightly with his imaginary wand, twirling the handle on his ring finger.
'Do you want her to?'
She was such a nasty person. The worst.
'No.' It was better that way.
'Then she won't. Ready?' Dracula's voice was enveloping her conscience, which cried in protest at the oncoming Legilimency attack on her friend, and Hermione wanted to leave the Headmaster's tower and just pretend she had not come here.
Hermione took a breath, trying to calm her galloping heart and nodded mentally, catching Ginny's sad gaze.
'Watch closely, Hermione. "Legilimency!"'
And then, suddenly, the images started to twirl before her.
…
xxx
"I will murder him. I will slaughter him with my bare hands. I will—"
Hermione slammed her fists onto the ancient stone walls and almost wailed.
She could wail all she wanted, as the Chamber of Secrets wasn't very crowded, but the flickering figure of Dracula made her keep her angry tears to herself.
He was walking on the floor where the Basilisk's corpse used to lie, slowly back and forth. The Chamber had been cleaned when Voldemort had taken over Hogwarts, and now it was spotless, but the nasty glare from Dracula here and there told her more than words could have.
"Are you still talking about Potter, or have you moved on to talking about..." Dracula came closer, his black cloak misty "... my other half?"
Hermione could feel fume leave her ears and she knew she'd explode soon.
"I am still talking about Harry. I will get to your cheating face later," Hermione spit venom, taking a seat in the transfigured chair.
She had transfigured one for herself, and if Dracula was in the mood to sit, he could do so on the floor.
"Cheating? Why, I have no idea what you're talking about. Are you sure we watched the same memory?" He was having fun while all Hermione wanted to do after witnessing the Cruciatus from Harry and finger-fuck from Marvolo was to cause mayhem.
She wanted to murder them both, and it was hard to decide which of the black-haired bastards would be the first in line.
"You mean there is more finger-fucking that I haven't seen?"
She knew Ginny was surprised when Hermione simply darted out of the room, but she needed to get away from the redhead.
From the memories.
The Cruciatus, the pain, Harry, Voldemort, pleasure, lust, Rabastan, the potion...Hermione had seen everything.
She needed a minute to compose herself, and when Dracula had offered to Apparate her to a secluded area, Hermione had agreed, distracted by her bleeding heart that was pumping hot lava.
Now, the pain turned to anger, and she needed an outlet.
She should have known Dracula would Apparate into the Chamber of Secrets.
"Hermione, Hermione..." Dracula paused and Hermione glared at his innocent smile. "That was not cheating. Cheating is when you're interested in someone, even just on a physical level. However, if you do it to prove a point, it's not cheating," Dracula finished his sentence and Hermione felt the need to strangle him rise to new levels.
Harry, Voldemort, Rabastan, then Dracula. And Bellatrix. She'd fry them all without blinking.
And Malfoy Senior… what a bastard! The blond shit had even fewer morals than Voldemort, it seemed, if it were possible at all…
"Your twisted logic never ceases to amaze me." Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts and took a breath to calm her anger.
No need to go crazy now. She'd talk to Harry, today. No matter what Harry Potter would be doing, he would find the time to explain to her how he had treated Ginny.
Like a monster.
Like Voldemort.
Dracula became solid and walked over to her, slowly, with his bone-white wand hanging on his finger.
Dracula—Voldemort—stopped just a step away from her, looking at her with his red eyes.
Yes, she knew she could talk to him face to face in her mind—it sounded crazy even to her—,however, standing before her was no illusion. He was real.
"Why would I want her when I have you?" His tone was almost soft, with a note of honest curiosity.
Hermione knew it was wrong. She knew that, but still, her heart fluttered at the words.
This was Voldemort. What he thought, Voldemort also thought. He liked what Voldemort liked. He wasn't advising her, he was telling her that she was someone important to him.
To Voldemort.
Hermione closed her eyes for second.
She needed to talk to Harry first, and then, she'd have a talk with Marvolo.
"Remind me again why you are so friendly, all of a sudden?" Hermione asked in a now calm voice, getting up from the chair she had transfigured for herself and straightening her clothes.
He was looking at her with an almost tender expression that was both amused and smirking.
"I gave you an Unbreakable Oath. That alone has to count for something, doesn't it?"
It counted—a lot—but Hermione was still curious.
Hermione took a step towards Dracula and put her hand onto his cloak-clad shoulder.
"How is it that you're so real?"
She was looking over the handsome face and her hand remained on his shoulder, feeling the solid presence.
One elegant, warm hand touched her chin and tilted her head up, his thumb stroking her tender skin.
Hermione closed her eyes when soft, warm lips touched hers in a small, almost innocent kiss that, no matter how small, reminded Hermione who this was.
She couldn't tell with closed eyes who she was kissing—Marvolo or Dracula—but she wouldn't ever confuse it with anybody else.
She loved his kisses.
"I am real, but only for you." Dracula let go of her chin and offered his elbow.
A hallucination, in other words.
"Are we ready to face my big, evil self?"
She knew he had a sense of humour, and it was a pity he used it so rarely.
If Dracula did not understand why it was wrong to finger-fuck your friend, then Voldemort didn't either.
She'd have to explain it to him in person.
However, first…
First, she was going to talk to one very unlucky junky.
Enough was enough.
xxx
His vision swam and the music was roaring in his ears through the beige earphones.
He knew he had, most likely, reached the limit with how much cocaine, ecstasy, and amphetamines his body and mind could take.
Wiping the sweat from his pale forehead, Harry took a drink from the flashy, orange bottle and focused his sight.
So...Where to?
Harry blinked and licked his lips.
Ah yes. Oooooh….
He had a glass to lick.
xxx
a/n Next chapter…Will be called "The Chosen One" XD We're going up, people. No more relaxing around. The music is now intense XD
- 30
- 31
- 32
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Two Steps From Hell