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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
- 32
- 33
- 34
a/n
I want to thank you for the feedback. It was awesome, and you are the best. So for you, those who help me with my writing, I am giving TWO chapters today.
One is in original time, and is very, very dark. The other is from the past and is light. Balance ;)
All the warnings from the story apply to this chapter.
You have been warned.
Beta: Julie. fjad
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Two Steps From Hell
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Horcrux Mine
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Chapter Thirty Three
He did not understand what she didn't like about his question.
She didn't really have to stare at him with those pretty green eyes of hers. He had enough stress without any moral complications needed.
"I really don't know how to answer your question, Lucius." Her voice was as soft as always but there was a note of steel in it.
Oh, yes. She was angry.
Her untimely morality was something he could do without.
"You do not know how to worsen it, or you do know how, but won't tell me because it's immoral?"
Well, he would ask another shrink to explain to him how to make Weasley count more.
He didn't have to be a psychiatrist to see that Ronald Weasley had a mental problem, as the idiot redhead kept on counting the tiles on the floor of Cara's waiting room.
Whatever this illness was called, Lucius wanted to worsen it.
He needed time for Draco to talk things through, and he needed time to run all his business.
More, more, more.
"I'm afraid I cannot help you, Lucius," Cara quietly said with her pretty head tilted back a bit.
Even though she had spoken to the dimwit for only one hour, she considered him her patient and refused to help Lucius. And it pissed him off so much that his knuckles around the snakelike cane which held his wand turned white.
Wasn't Cara supposed to be on his side?
Women…
Lucius had brought the youngest son of Arthur Weasley to Cara for an examination that he, as the employer of Ronald Weasley, could demand.
Cara requested privacy, and for one hour, while Lucius quickly wrote down the new directions for his assistants, she talked to the boy.
He now had three assistants, and they weren't that bad.
They were young and fanatically loyal to the power the name Malfoy held now, and, of course, smart. Only the best of the best were allowed to work close to him, and with a slight sneer, Lucius looked over the redhead who sat quietly in the other room, behind transparent walls with little waterfalls on them.
The dimwit was pathetic in everything except math, the redhead was incredible with numbers. After tearing the papers from Weasley's hands, Lucius had quickly scanned page after page to confirm his disbelieving suspicion. He knew if he hadn't been Lucius Malfoy, he would be standing with his mouth wide open.
That filthy creature, that moronic, useless boy had solved every single task, and he had made not one mistake.
Unlike his son.
He knew this Weasley had not studied anything, and was the biggest loser of the pathetic family, however, it looked like he wasn't as simple as he appeared..
It looked like Draco had forgotten his homework at the Quidditch bench, and Weasley had found it.
And corrected everything.
During his study in Illuminus, he had seen one girl with similar behaviour. She left after a week, and Lucius had forgotten all about it, until now. He remembered her solve one formula after the other, without stopping.
He had been fascinated then, and now, he had his own toy.
Apparently, Ronald Weasley had an analytical mind and a predisposition for a mind illness through his mother's side. All that happened to him—and his family—actually caused him to develop a necessity to count everything. Cara—Doctor Pare—said it was possible to control the symptoms, but only through the knowledge of Occlumency.
Weasley would need no Occlumency, Lucius thought at the accusatory stare Cara was bestowing him with.
On the scale of glares it was a three. Narcissa could do a seven. And ten was the Dark Lord.
He could do whatever he wanted with Weasley, without having to worry about anything.
Lucius was the only power when the Dark Lord was away, and currently, his master was in China.
His hands itched to try out a new tactic on the stock market, and tomorrow couldn't come faster.
Weasley was going to do the calculations for him, freeing at least a few hours a day from his incredibly tight schedule.
If Weasley refused, he would kill the boy's brother before allowing him to reconsider.
If Weasley made a mistake, he would kill his other brother before allowing to make up for the losses.
He had found the only reason why it was good to have so many Weasleys around.
What luck!
And to think his brilliant discovery—that lightened his dark mood of recent days—was all because his own son was a dimwit when it came to complicated formulas, and Lucius did not understand why.
He started to believe Draco was doing it on purpose. Why would his otherwise bright child behave like an idiot?
His brilliant boy, his beautiful, smart son had been his treasure from the moment Lucius took him in his arms; was the first to hold him, to greet him to this world.
He remembered the tears that had rolled down his cheeks from the sheer joy of seeing those so Malfoy-grey eyes open for the first time and see the world.
See him.
It did not matter that Narcissa had to go through twenty-two hours of labour and he had left her side only for a few minutes. Everything was worth this feeling of sheer happiness and pure love when those eyes connected with his.
Hello, my little Dragon.
Lucius shook his head a bit and nodded.
He smiled at her pursed lips and rose to his feet, waving away her answer.
"Don't bother, Cara. I'll find my way out."
Cara looked sad for a minute before she looked away, at some documents in her hands.
"Have a good night, Lucius."
xxx
"Mister Malfoy, I am not sure—"
He held a hand up to stop the grey-haired man—Doctor Levirus Yaxley—and suddenly slammed his fists onto the desk, making the small, old man jump up in his seat. His tall, richly dressed figure was now looming over the table, behind which the doctor sat.
"Don't you dare tell me that your morality or professionalism cannot allow you to tell me what I demand to hear!" He knew he was screaming and he could feel a vein pulse on his neck.
"Miste—
"It's Minister Malfoy, the Head Minister of Magical Union!" He saw the spit fly out of his mouth and land on the dark-brown table and that brought him to a halt.
The older man was sitting quietly, afraid to even breathe, and Lucius could see him shiver in his chair.
"Are you not the head of St. Mungo's Institution?"
Old Yaxley shivered and swallowed hard before nodding.
"Can you worsen his illness?" He hissed through clenched teeth—he almost sounded like the Dark Lord with the hissing notes, however, the actual lack of Parseltongue ability made his hissing sound as though he had too much spit in his mouth—and Lucius wasn't pleased even though he saw the older Professor nod a few times.
"How?!"
He was shouting again.
At least when he had been a Death Eater out of law—and before Azkaban—, no one dared to refuse him when asked in such a tone. Now, everyone seemed bent on arguing with him.
It was easier being a criminal.
"Me- mental trauma of the same nature as a previous one could cause severe de- deterioration of the ma-magical type of OCD…" The old man trailed off before seeing the question in the not very stable grey eyes.
"Ob- obsessive-compulsive disorder," he added quickly and Lucius could feel his white teeth being revealed in what could only be a horrible smile, judging by the white face of the older man.
Oh, yes.
He could arrange that.
xxx
"I believed in you, my boy."
Albus Dumbledore.
"Harry, how could you?"
Dad.
"My darling Harry, why?"
Mom.
"I shouldn't be surprised, Potter."
Snape.
"Little brother, you killed me."
George.
"Harry!"
Ginny.
"Harry!"
Ron.
"Harry!"
Hermione.
"You put away your wand right now! Harry, put down your wand! Harry Potter!"
Harry opened his eyes and screamed, the purple bracelets not allowing his sweaty body to bend in a painful arch on the bed.
"I am your friend! I am Hermione! What are you doing, Harry? You will leave me no choice! Stop!"
The memories and hallucinations were attacking his now sober mind, and with no drugs available, his body would have gone into the withdrawal shock had it not been for the person looking at him with a corner of his mouth raised.
"Hurts?"
xxx
Harry could tell from the tilt of the head to the right that his conversationalist was in a good mood.
He found out from Draco who was told by his father, Lucius. All Death Eaters believed that when the Dark Lord's head was tilted to right, then you were in his favour, and weren't about to be at least Crucio-d. They had seen their Lord tilt his head to the left, and every time at least one person died.
Well, died was the wrong word. Murdered, ruthlessly and without hesitation.
Harry caught himself as pale-blue eyes suddenly appeared right before his. The eyes were joined by a face, and Harry wondered how the eyes appeared before the face. Did they Apparate?
Using small, eye-wands. Or did the eyes come on foot?
On two little eye-legs.
Or wings. Did they fly?
Voldemort could fly, so his eyes also could fly if they wanted.
Harry's conviction in his logical brilliance was interrupted when the room he was lying in started to shake.
"Everything seems to be in order, My Lord. The blood results are getting better." A beautiful woman was batting her eyelashes at Tom, who didn't even blink. He was giving off as many sexual vibes as the table next to the spacy window.
The windows were open and the moonlight was calling. It was talking to him.
And everything continued shaking.
Maybe it was normal? Harry thought before a feeling of utter terror gripped his guts, letting him know that something was going to happen.
He felt the shadows approach and piece by piece, the whole room was swallowed by darkness.
It kept coming closer.
It was here.
"Time to wake up, Harry."
xxx
"Harry."
The first real greeting that allowed him the choice, Harry realised as he looked into the pale eyes observing him from a few feet away from his bed.
It was his choice now.
For the first time, he was choosing for himself.
His breathing was shallow and he could hear a whistling sound each time he tried to gulp enough air.
Harry could feel the horror, he could feel the mental pain for everything he had done in the last one and a half years approach. He knew it was there… if he reached for the first real memory, he would open a floodgate.
When he was fully awake and sober.
And he would be all alone to face his demons.
This was hell, and after everything he had done in his life, he got this.
Who was he fighting for?
What was he fighting for?
For muggles?
And what good have they done him? Did he have memories of great days of his childhood? Or it was a miracle he had the chance that he hadn't turned into a raging psychopath in the first place?
And that miracle had been taken away by no other than Albus Dumbledore.
Harry's hands were free and he hid his face in his palms.
He would have had a better childhood if he had been raised by Lucius Malfoy who despite everything, was a loving father who adored his child.
The memories were coming and the pain was just around the corner, already letting him feel its freezing coldness.
He wanted out, no matter what way.
He deserved at least something in this life!
He wanted help.
He removed his palms from his face, and the head with messy black hair was now tilted down.
He had made his choice.
"My Lord."
xxx
She needed to find her father.
She Apparated to the spot in the desert where her father used to spend all his free time, and despite her high heels, she ran towards his meditating figure.
"Daddy!"
She needed to tell him that she wasn't so sure anymore if she really wanted to be the next Mrs. Malfoy. She needed her father to stop.
Cara wiped the tears in her eyes when she thought about how Lucius changed, how the man she worshipped turned into a raging psychopath who didn't see and hear anything but his own delusional mind.
She didn't want her biggest competition gone. She didn't want Narcissa dead.
Not anymore.
Her father lifted his head with white hair, and when Cara looked into his teary brown eyes, she came to a halt.
It was too late.
xxx
"No, please, no!"
He knew he was begging, screaming while standing on his knees. He would do anything.
His blue eyes were full of tears as he kept staring into the eyes of his brother who was being held at wand point.
"Count, Weasley. You have five minutes to solve everything, or…" The wand with a serpent head was clasped tightly in a hand with many rings, and it was pointing to his brother's mop of orange hair.
Ron nodded a few times before quickly going through the numbers, his hands shaking and his mind hazy.
"Two minutes left."
He had just begun, and he couldn't solve ten pages with numbers in five minutes. He needed time! It was not possible.
Please!
"One minute."
Ron did not look up from the papers, his hand a blur.
One hundred fifty…seven thousand twenty five…twenty two thousand eighteen…
Ron's hand with the quill shot up in the air, signalling that he was done, even if a scream of "Ready!" accompanied it.
Trembling blue eyes were now looking directly into pale-grey that shone with maleficent joy, and then Ron looked at his older brother.
He made it. He did it.
Percy would be safe.
"Five minutes and five seconds," Lucius Malfoy tsked and suddenly grinned.
No.
No, no, no, no!
"Avada Kedavra!"
"PERCY!"
Ron's scream came from deep within his heart, from his very soul as he watched the green light and then Percy's lifeless body hit the ground.
He was too late. It was all his fault.
xxx
Lucius was still laughing and Rabastan needed time to calm down as well, even if his precious ginger kept on silently struggling in his hold.
When Malfoy had Apparated with that dimwit to Hogwarts and told Rabastan what he wanted, the younger Lestrange couldn't stop grinning.
It has been a long time since they had their fun.
The power that they held over everyone else was simply maddening, and Rabastan knew Lucius was struggling with his mind as well. He could see Lucius spiral down, but he didn't stop him.
He joined him instead.
Looking at his silenced, drugged gift, Rabastan suddenly barked out a laugh, catching Lucius' and that dimwit's attention.
"Weasley, do you need any more help with motivation?" he asked in a mocking, considerate voice and Rabastan almost doubled over from the laughter that threatened to escape him at the understanding in those watery blue eyes.
Slowly lifting Ginny's skirt, Rabastan looked at Lucius who now had a predatory gleam in his eyes.
They were friends.
He would share.
xxx
Lucius let go of the girl and threw her body towards her brother.
If his brother's death did not help Ronald Weasley perform better, then what he and Rabastan had done to the girl while her brother watched, immobilized and silenced, should be enough to push Weasley to the edge.
There had been so much hate in Ginny's eyes as he fucked her on the carpet in the headmaster's Tower that for a second, Lucius had almost stopped. Something unfamiliar crept up his spine and he didn't understand what it was.
He disregarded the nasty feeling that he was making a very big mistake, and went on.
Leaning back into the Headmaster's chair, Lucius looked over the shivering girl and her equally shivering brother. There were so many tears that he was starting to think the redheads had decided to flood the tower.
The dead body of one more Weasley was still lying on the floor, and even if Percy Weasley looked thin, he had been quite comfortable. When he and Rabastan had fucked Ginny—she was drugged and he could tell she enjoyed two grown men at the same time, and her brother could definitely hear her slutty moans— they had used the body on the floor as cushions. For variable positions.
He and Rabastan could be very creative when they wished to be.
If Ronald did not get enough mental trauma for the day, Lucius would be happy to repeat it anytime.
The door opened and Rabastan came back, only this time, Rodolphus and Yaxley were with him. And the youngest Lestrange wasn't smiling anymore.
All the mirth was gone from his face and his green eyes were now dead serious.
Lucius could feel something brewing in his stomach before crawling up to his heart and squeezing it tight.
Something had happened while he had been busy with the redheads.
"Malfoy," Rabastan addressed him and from the tone alone Lucius could feel fear spread like wild fire in his veins.
"What happened, Lestrange?" He tried to sound normal, but the anticipation and the fear were making his voice sound weaker. It was almost a whisper. His hands were gripping the armchair so tightly he thought he would break it.
"Lucius…"
"Just tell me already what the hell has happened?!"
"It's Narcissa." Rabastan's eyes were sober and solemn and Lucius had to lick his lips to form the question.
He didn't want to know.
Cissy, what have you done?
There had always been only one woman he truly loved, and no matter what kind of bastard he could be, he loved Narcissa.
A sick feeling of dread washed all over him, and Lucius closed his eyes.
"She's dead, Lucius. I am sorry."
No.
xxx
He was standing on his knees, his tailored trousers dirty, but nothing mattered.
Tears were rolling down his handsome face that was now twisted into a grimace of pain and agony.
Fingers, adorned with the best gemstones, were slowly touching the blond hair before him, or what was left of it.
He had been fucking Ginny Weasley when his wife had been dying, and no matter how much money he had, how much political power he held over everyone…Nothing mattered as he couldn't bring her back.
My love.
I am so, so sorry.
He couldn't even apologize. He would never be able to say how sorry he was.
NARCISSA!
His tears were genuine in their sorrow, and Lucius could feel a part of him die from the pain.
WHY?!
He had lost himself, and his failure had cost the only woman he cared for her life.
When did everything fall apart?
He felt a soft touch on his shoulder, and saw Rabastan crouch next to him.
Lucius would have wiped his tears had he cared.
Cissy.
Who dared?!
"Lucius, we need to alert the Dark Lord," Lestrange said quietly, his eyes sad as he looked at the burned corpse of Narcissa Malfoy.
"Why?"
The Dark Lord would not care if anything happened to Narcissa. No one cared.
"Malfoy!"
Lucius looked at the doors and his heart froze.
Yaxley was breathing hard and he looked scared.
"Nymphadora Tonks has been found dead."
There was no need to specify which Nymphadora.
His jaw didn't feel like his own when he opened his mouth to scream from the terror he felt in his heart. Whatever good shard of him remained, was now convulsing in horror of understanding.
Andromeda, Narcissa, Nymphadora…
Blood Blacks.
Nothing mattered anymore as his eyes connected with Rabastan's and then they both screamed for the only person that mattered now.
"DRACO!"
xxx
Her dark eyes were glistering with tears and her long, usually black fingernails were scratching on the ground, digging dirt, and she even didn't notice it.
Rodolphus had told her everything he could, but it was not enough.
Cissy.
Her beloved, darling baby-sister. Her precious sister was dead and all because of him!
He!
He is guilty!
"Bella, promise to be my sister forever?" A five-year old whispered into her ear and as the memory-Bella turned to face the teary blue eyes and blond hair, she was met with a rotting skull.
The Dementors were coming closer.
She could feel them.
She could always feel them.
xxx
The burning in her Mark was instantaneous, the Dementors vanished and Bellatrix opened her eyes.
Could it be…?
Trying to swallow the tears, she felt his magic and she moaned.
He was her drug. He was her everything.
And he was coming for her.
Master.
xxx
His steps were slow but steady.
His cloak was black, and today he preferred to wear it instead of a suit.
A Dark Lord had to have a cloak.
He was in a playful mood today, and Hermione wasn't here.
Nobody read silently near him, nobody sent him funny looks and no one dared to even breathe the wrong way.
It was...boring.
After given it a long thought, he had come to a very elegant conclusion that solved his problems with removing the Horcrux from Nagini.
While he wanted to remove the one from Hermione, it wasn't so urgent.
If he went over three Horcruxes he would go crazy. Again. And that was something he had no wish for.
With Hermione keeping the first Horcrux—temporarily—he still had two. Lucius would get the first.
He wondered how many times he could bring the person to the edge, and pull his soul back. With everything going on in Lucius' life it now looked like he had a perfect candidate for the breakdown.
Lucius was already starting to regret many, many things he had done and said, however, it was only the beginning.
The fall would be when Draco would join his mother.
He didn't want to agree to the death of Draco simply because he was the strongest lever possible on Lucius. And Lucius was his Minister, one he wanted to keep.
The word heachache would not be enough to describe what would happen financially if anything were to happen to Lucius Malfoy.
It had to be done much earlier than he had anticipated, however, the immortal army of dead wizards was worth the names Black and Malfoy to disappear from the wizarding tree of the living.
Lucius had to be his before anything happened to the brat.
And then, when Lucius would understand what he had done—he, Lord Voldemort, wasn't actually to blame this time, and it must have been the first—,he would pull out the Horcrux from Nagini and merge it with his soul. He had yet to find the other recipient of a gift of such magnitude.
Nagini's Horcrux would return to him, and the one in Lucius would remain there. He knew enough about wards to keep any powers at bay. Except death—and he smiled; he didn't have to worry about this particular topic anymore.
He had an inkling of who could be a good candidate, however, he wasn't so sure because of their old history. And he knew Harry would welcome such a present with open arms.
However, he did appreciate loyalty, and he had to show his servants that they could also be chosen.
For their faith.
Immortality and power.
Bella would be like a commercial.
If Bella won, she would be his lieutenant, just like before. Now, though, with an endless army behind her, near her. And him ahead. And everyone would see how far loyalty could bring you.
If Bella lost, then Harry, the-very-same-Boy-who-lived, would kneel before him and take his Mark with pride and power. Not like theinsane drug-addicted fool he used to be.
He would help Harry to rebuild his worldview, and see his faults from before.
No matter what, Potter had had a similar childhood as himself, and he had never had a parental figure.
He wasn't going to make Harry love him like a father. He'd make him worship him as his Master.
He stopped and bit back a little laugh as he imagined Dumbledore's expression if only he could see Harry now. Or in the future.
Harry had everything to be a perfect bad guy, and he would have been, had it not been for one meddling old fool.
The Dark Lord climbed the last stairs—the chocolate could be felt on his stomach, so he had to move—and looked around.
He was immortal and all his Horcruxes were also indestructible with the security seal from Death itself, that meant he could satisfy his curiosity.
No one knew how the Horcruxes worked, or how exactly the soul was broken. There were only a few books on how to create one.
It was highly recommended—funny, isn't?— not to create more than one.
He needed three.
He used to have seven.
His thoughts always got more pensive when he came to Azkaban. It wasn't such a bad place compared to the damned orphanage.
He would have burned it on the spot, had it already not been destroyed. Now that had been a pity.
Just like with Severus.
Severus, the smart, acidic Potions genius who had the balls of steel. Severus had his respect even if Voldemort didn't want to give it. However again, it would have been such a pleasure to kill his most trusted servant slowly and painfully.
Again.
With a sigh, he stopped and looked up, into the stormy sky over the tower of Azkaban.
He was going to let fate decide it.
Who would win, would get the Horcrux.
Harry or Bellatrix.
Or they both would die.
He was not going to interfere.
xxx
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Two Steps From Hell