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The Apprentice	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 64573 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 9
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
- 33
- 34
The Apprentice
A Dazed Mind
Everything is fine.
His words sang quietly through her mind. Hermione knew them to be right. She'd never felt better, like she was wrapped in cotton wool, so soft and comfortable. She felt so well-rested. Calm. Nice. Her body was so relaxed, like she'd had the best massage ever. Nothing hurt. There was no pain, not even a hint of soreness. No distress. No negativity. She was at peace. Everything was fine. She was fine. All was well. There were voices in the distance, foreign, garbled noises. She didn't care.
Albus … konnte keine Überraschung … Aloysia … Gellert … uns verraten … Meine Wahl … Du bist wirklich verrückt …
They seemed to be arguing. Her brain had trouble distinguishing that, because the voices hummed in her ears like a lovely sound of soothing music blending together. Why would anyone argue here in this paradise? There was no need for her to be stressed about it, so she didn't. She was in a state of utter tranquillity, floating like a summer breeze.
Er ist mächtig, aber … Elderstab … gefährlich … den Händen … Du weißt schon wer … vorsichtig Hludowig … er hat sich … Schlammblut …
There were two of them, she realised, a man and a woman. She didn't recognise their voices. She didn't understand the language. It sounded German; perhaps? Not that it mattered. Nothing did. They were clearly strangers, but she didn't mind not knowing. She was warm, comfortable, at ease. This was most positively the bestest bed she ever had with the bestest covers ever. They even smelled nice: fresh, crisp, like the fresh scent of nature right after rain. She snuggled her nose in the thick, soft covers, inhaling deeply.
'Ist das Mädchen wach?'
The sharp clicking of heels came closer. It was a gentle thrum, echoing in her mind. Merlin, she could lie here forever. Everything was fine in the world.
'Miss Granger?'
It was the unknown woman. There was a melodious quality to her voice that was positively pleasant to her ears, and Hermione wouldn't mind if she kept on talking. Apparently she knew her name. Society's conventions stated that it would be rude to ignore her or pretend to be asleep still. Not that Hermione truly cared about any of that. Everything was like a dream anyway. Her body was adrift, connected yet unconnected to anything. She supposed she could move it.
If she must.
Yawning, she stretched out her arms above her head and opened her eyes. There was a stark contrast between her comfortable thoughts and feelings and the dimness of the environment, but it didn't alarm her. She didn't think anything would. Everything was fine.
There were bars on the tiny window far above her through which the wind howled that moved the blonde's hairs around her concerned face. The witch that looked down at her had once been considered extremely pretty, Hermione could tell. Actually, if she were honest, she still was. Despite the many wrinkles showing her age, she had high cheekbones, bright blue eyes, and a button nose. Only her lips were thin and her mouth was drawn downward, giving her a slightly sour expression. There was something familiar about her, but Hermione couldn't place her finger on it.
'Who are you?'
The woman smiled. It opened up her face and made her seem positively approachable and kind.
'My name is Aloysia.' She nodded over her shoulder. 'I believe you already met Hludowig.'
Hermione looked past her to the massive wizard who leaned against the door's wood frame with his shoulder.
'Hello,' she said sheepishly, remembering him.
'Miss Granger,' he replied, giving her a polite nod.
'You two were arguing,' Hermione said, her eyes flickering between them.
It wasn't that she really cared. She was barely even a tad bit curious. Odd. She always had to know everything. She shrugged. Unpleasant things didn't matter one bit.
'You heard that?'
'Sort of.'
'Well, we're old friends.'
Old friends, Grindelwald's general, Aloysia … Grindelwald!
Well, that explained why she looked familiar. Had all of that wizard's old buddies joined Voldemort's forces? That should really upset her, shouldn't it? Surely that was a problem? Why didn't it feel like one then? She felt like she hadn't a single care in the world. All remained well.
'We have disagreements,' Aloysia said, shrugging. 'I'm sure you have them with your friends.'
Silly to have those, really.
'It's nothing for you to worry about.'
'I'm not worried,' Hermione said, smiling brightly.
She really wasn't. She'd never felt better. Even though she had no idea where she was, everything was fine. Her eyes took in more of her environment. Behind Hludowig Herrmann, there was a heavy-looking wood door that opened up to a dim and dreary corridor with walls of solid rock. Cold stone walls covered the room she was in, one sad scone being the sole light fixture on the wall next to the doorway, its candle flickering in the wind.
Wait a minute.
'I am in Azkaban, am I not?' she asked, frowning. 'This is one of the cells.'
Why was she in one of the cells? Not that she truly cared, but she couldn't recall getting here. Where was Voldemort? Last she remembered she …
Her memory blurred into a mist as she tried to catch the vague, strangely ghostlike images that slipped through her fingers. Serenity washed over her, blowing away that brief instant of distress. Everything was fine.
The witch sat down on the edge of her bed and nodded. 'Do you remember how you got here?'
'No … I—I—' she stuttered, confused.
Why wasn't this bothering her more?
'It's okay,' Aloysia said calmly. 'It'll come back to you. Give it time. You had a bit of a shock to your system.'
Shock? What shock?
She'd never felt better in her life.
Why was that?
Wait, she'd flown here with Voldemort!
She had always hated heights, and she knew she hated flying, especially after that trip from Scotland to London on an invisible beast. She could see everything down below, and she'd no idea what she was holding onto so she didn't dare reposition her hands for fear of finding nothing or something painful like an ear to hold. Her cold fingers had positively cramped and been quite stiff when they'd landed. She'd barely managed to hold her wand after that. And then there'd been that dream where he'd dropped her, so maybe that was this alleged shock they were referring to?
Hermione's forehead wrinkled, trying to sort through her memories.
She'd gone to Diagon Alley. Voldemort had suddenly shown up. She'd been scared during that flight, but not exceptionally so. She had every faith in his abilities. She'd felt safe in his arms. They'd landed on the island. She'd been taunting and duelling Dolohov, then met Hludowig, talked and then …
Her breath caught. She furrowed her brow, knowing there had to be more, but after that last memory, everything slipped back into that quiet comfortable and unnatural mist, only a distant sound of cackling laughter lingered through it rather disturbingly. Her brief concern and small bout of panic at her loss of memory washed away into this utter state of serenity.
You're fine. Everything is alright.
The emotion replaced and overtook everything else. Her eyes turned unseeing before Aloysia came back into focus. The woman sent her a small knowing smile and took her hand.
'It's okay,' she said. 'Don't try to focus on what you're missing. It'll come back to you once you're ready.'
'Ready?'
'I know how you're feeling right now.'
'I feel wonderful.'
Hermione frowned. That was a strange way to feel under these circumstances. She was in a cell with two of Grindelwald's top people. She really had to remember what had happened.
'Don't fight it,' Aloysia warned. 'Just go with the flow.'
What flow? Whose flow? Oh God! Her heart picked up speed, and cold sweat dripped down her spine. What had been done to her?! Why couldn't she remem—?
As the world turned dark around her and she slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing she heard was Aloysia Grindelwald's sigh.
xxx
'Welcome back,' Aloysia said when Hermione opened her eyes again.
Confused, Hermione looked around. The shadows were at a different position than before. Had she passed out? For that long? While she was lying down?
'Try not to think,' Aloysia interrupted her thoughts.
You try that.
'I'll explain everything to you, just don't fight how you're feeling right now or try to force your blocked memories to resurface.'
'Blocked memories?'
'Gellert once did this for me when I lost the baby and couldn't cope.'
Hermione tried to open her mouth, but the witch didn't give her an opening to talk and continued.
'I recall how nice the feeling was and how at the same time it would turn disconcerting when I realised I missed something I was supposed to recall. And I had the advantage of recalling giving him permission to do this to me. You didn't. You were already too far gone.'
'I—'
'Your memories aren't lost. They are in there, and they will return to you when you're ready to process them. For me it happened in slow increments.'
'I don't think I like this,' she said, uncertain.
She knew that she shouldn't like it on a rational level, but emotionally it was a whole other thing altogether. Everything was so perfect, so nice. She couldn't care, no matter if she tried. And she really didn't. This was fine. She was fine. All was well.
It echoed through her brain, dancing around her synapses, making her utterly relaxed and happy.
'Maybe we should tell her what happened?' Hludowig interrupted.
Yes, that sounded like the bestest idea anyone ever had. She could use some answers.
Aloysia shook her head.
Normally if someone disagreed with what Hermione wanted, she'd put up a fight, but it felt unnecessary. All would be revealed eventually. It wasn't like she was in trouble. She was fine.
'Won't a third party's account create enough distance to not trigger her and help ease her back into it?'
'Maybe? I don't think that's how the charm is supposed to work. It didn't for me.'
'You were not surrounded by people who'd gladly kill you, Aloysia. It was just you, the Healer and Gellert who were there at the time. And he's not even here, too busy addressing his followers.'
So that's where Voldemort is.
Hermione smiled, envisioning him babbling away as he always did. He really was an excellent conversationalist. She could hear him talk all day long.
'I know,' Aloysia said. 'But the charm works by bringing back those memories you can handle and only those memories. That way you gradually adjust. Even if I'd been there from the start, like you, and I wasn't, I'd not be able to make the distinction what caused her to break down. Something stupidly minor could be a major trigger to her. It was the scent of hydrangeas for me.'
Aloysia gained a far away look.
'You killed someone,' Hludowig said calmly, looking straight at Hermione and holding up his hand to the baffled Aloysia.
The comment didn't register the way Hermione thought something like that should. She still felt marvellous as if he'd told her she'd finished Hogwarts with the highest N.E.W.T. scores ever. How could the information of her having killed someone feel like a happy thought?
They must've had it coming, her brain —dosed on positive emotions— supplied her.
Somehow the question of who she'd killed didn't even register as important to consider. She just kept floating in this soft woolly state of being. The world was her happy place.
'Keep an eye on the corridor,' Hludowig said to Aloysia, nodding with his head to the doorway as he walked closer to the bed.
Aloysia rose, shaking her head at him. 'This is a huge risk.'
'She needs to know.'
Do I?
'He won't be happy if she breaks down again.'
When did that occur?
'That's my problem, isn't it?'
An unhappy Voldemort likely was more than one person's problem. He tended to make it everyone's problem instead of his own. Perhaps she should pay attention? She didn't want to lose this feeling. Maybe if she knew, they'd stop nagging at her and she could float away into a cloud of silence.
'You always were a risk taking fool.'
'I killed someone?' Hermione asked, confused, still feeling positively at ease, though a niggling, intrusive thought in the back of her mind recalled how she'd told Voldemort she wouldn't use any Unforgivables ever. She'd already performed the Imperius Curse to save those idiots at the shop. He'd be positively unbearable if she'd used the Killing Curse as well.
Oh well.
Maybe she'd killed them differently?
Here's to hoping .
Maybe she'd bashed in their heads with a rock or something? It seemed legit enough. She could've thrown a rock around. There were plenty of them around here. That was definitely a better option, according to her dazed mind.
Was this how it felt to use Muggle drugs or pleasure-enhancing potions?
If so, she understood why people would get addicted. The sensations running through her body were marvellous. Nothing mattered and everything mattered, but all was well. She was fine, on top of the world. She pushed herself into a seated position but pulled those fluffy covers up to her nose. It was so warm and cosy underneath. So comfortable. Like the world was a safe place underneath all that fuzz and above it was a frigid wind as a metaphor to the stinging iciness of the world. She needed to keep herself safe, right here.
'Someone you cared about,' Hludowig said, sitting down at Aloysia's spot while she'd taken his in the doorway. 'Someone who was in the process of dying a horribly slow death. You did them a kindness.'
'I don't remember,' she whispered. 'Who was it?'
'No, Herrmann.'
He paused at the usage of his last name, looking over his shoulder to the witch who was shaking her head warningly. He sighed before addressing Hermione again.
'You lost it after you used the Killing Curse, for what I'm assuming was the first time?'
Hermione nodded. Even though she couldn't remember using it, she'd never used it before. If she'd used it now, it would've been her first time. Strange how it didn't bother her one iota that she might've. Also strange how it didn't bother her one iota that she couldn't confirm or deny if he told her the truth. She just took his word for it. It felt the right thing to do.
Everything felt like the right thing to do.
'That explains a lot,' Hludowig said, placing his hand on hers and squeezing softly. 'After that, Bellatrix Lestrange attacked you, and you used it again.'
Dammit, why couldn't she have thrown a rock for crying out loud? Voldemort would be so smug.
'Good riddance,' Aloysia muttered.
Hermione frowned, looking from one to the other. She'd killed two people, including the witch who'd murdered Sirius Black?
Well, that wouldn't have bothered her normally, let alone now that she was feeling so deliciously well taken care of, warm and safe.
'And then others came at you, and you seemed completely out of it, throwing that curse around like candy at whoever approached, and his ward around you was impenetrable,' Herrmann said, nodding to her chest. 'You got quite a lot of them.'
So more than two people. If only she cared. If only she could care. She felt protected, safe. Hermione's hand came to rest on her chest, feeling around and finding the necklace with Voldemort's mark was gone, removed. Only he could've done that. Was that why she had these two as an escort now? To keep her safe? Or to keep others safe from her?
'You even swiped off a substantial tuft of hair on Lucius Malfoy's head,' Herrmann chuckled. 'I've never seen a wizard duck so fast.'
Aloysia snorted, before saying laughingly, 'He was very upset about the damage to his hair. You may wanna stay out of his way for the time being.'
Now they were both laughing loudly. A smile curved on Hermione's lips as well. She wished she could remember this part. Surely that wouldn't hurt her? She closed her eyes, feeling her skin tingling. Was she floating?
Nice.
Did she exist? Was she real? Was this real? She inhabited the most incredible level of existence. Azkaban was amazing. This cell was amazing. Everything was amazing. She was amazing. Her brain was, too. She poked her cheeks with her index fingers. Fluffy clouds.
She could do magic!
She was a witch!
She opened her eyes, noting the amused expression on Hludowig's face.
'Are you back with us again?' he inquired.
'Was I gone?'
'Not physically.'
'How did I get here?'
'He showed up, tried to pull you out of it, but you wouldn't listen, you were quite far gone.'
You control it. Don't let it control you.
'I allowed the Dark Arts to overwhelm me,' Hermione said with a small voice.
By Godric, she'd failed.
Again.
It didn't disturb her as much as it normally would've, though. She felt uncaring about it, casual, like she'd dropped a plate while doing the dishes. A minor glitch in the matrix of her life.
It was strange to her, not obsessing over errors. It was nice for a change. She felt great, wonderful, at ease.
Unnaturally so.
Uncharacteristically so.
'It happens to the best of us,' Hludowig said, shrugging unapologetically.
'Some more than others,' Aloysia mumbled.
'We can't all be as magnificently flawless as you, dear. Some of us have feelings.'
She enjoyed their bantering. It felt familiar, like at home. Safe. Fine. Comfortable. Reassuring.
'Oh, it's feelings, is it? Here I was thinking you and Fiendfyre were just incompatible magic.'
'Funny.'
It was silent after that, a blissful silence. She loved silence. She could hear her own thoughts so clearly then.
'Voldemort stopped me, didn't he?'
The two looked at each other and then Aloysia said, 'Yes.'
'He used some form of Legilimency on me to take my memories,' Hermione added, furrowing her brow, thinking back to Dumbledore's teachings.
'I don't think they're taken, just blocked,' Hludowig said with a frown. 'But I'm not a Legilimens, so I could be mistaken on how it works.'
'It's to protect your brain from a traumatic event that you couldn't process,' Aloysia added, checking both sides of the corridor once more.
'Yeah, I'm not okay with that,' Hermione said, coming to this conclusion despite feeling perfectly okay. 'I want them back.'
'They'll come back—'
'No,' Hermione interrupted sharply, using her recent lessons to push all those unnatural feelings of calmness and tranquillity inside a cell in her mind and lock the door behind them. Her brain suddenly felt like her own again, like the fluffy mist had vacated and a clarity had come to the surface. She flung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. 'I have to know now. Where is he?'
Herrmann and Grindelwald looked at each other, uncertainty ever so present on their faces.
'Are you sure you're—'
'I'm fine.'
'He took your wand,' Hludowig said warningly.
Alarmed, Hermione immediately checked her pockets. It was true. Her wand wasn't there, but to her surprise, she pulled out a familiar looking necklace with his pendant. It felt off in her hand, like there was nothing there anymore—no magic of any kind. The stone was cold, unmoving and black. He'd deactivated his necklace that would've protected her and taken her wand? He left her defenseless? Now she truly was mad.
'So you two are here, why?' she asked, placing her hands on her sides. 'To make sure I'm safe or to keep me under control?'
'We're supposed to keep you safe.'
'Hmmm …' Hermione mumbled distrustfully, pretty sure that wasn't all of it. 'And did he say that safe meant staying here?'
'No, he very much wanted—'
Fuck him and his wants .
'Yeah, I don't care,' she said, walking away. 'I need to see him. Now.'
Aloysia's arm stopped her in her tracks.
'Don't bloody well touch me!'
'You need to know where, who and what you're going to walk in on. I understand you're angry, though I don't quite understand how you can be,' she said, raising her hands at Hludowig in bafflement, 'but you've got to keep your emotions under control and think rationally. He's addressing his followers, all of them. You can't just go barging in on that, make demands and not expect an immediate response that may be more than you bargained for.'
'Fine,' Hermione said, realising the witch wasn't wrong but having a hard time letting go of her anger.
Still, if she barged in angry at him like that, showing her emotions to everyone there, Voldemort would've to make an example out of her. That wouldn't get her any answers, just pain—the memory of the sheer force of his Cruciatus Curse at the forefront of her brain. She had no desire to be on the receiving end of that curse again. Hermione took a couple of deep breaths to centre herself, and then said,
'Okay, okay, you're right. I'm sorry. Tell me what I can do.'
xxx
Hludowig Herrmann took up the rear while Aloysia Grindelwald walked up front. They each had their wands out, though not noticeably. Only if you knew what to look for, you'd see it. Hermione made a mental note on how they held themselves in order to achieve that, to be able to keep your wand out but hidden was a good tactical advantage to have. In order to better remember, she mirrored Aloysia's hand movements, imagining her wand was there, hearing the soft chuckle of Hludowig behind her. The desire to stick out her tongue at him was overwhelming, but she refrained from such a childish move. She already felt like she was in over her head. She might turn of age in September, but to these two she'd be nothing more than a child, a teenager trying to keep up with the grownups.
They walked in a corridor that seemed to be adjacent to a wide open space inside the building of Azkaban. She briefly glanced through one of the opened doors they passed, and it was huge and crowded. Occasionally she could hear that crowd cheer or chant, but other than that, the space seemed pretty decently soundproofed as they moved along. Nothing came through the walls. Eventually a door up ahead opened, and a wizard with a rather brutish face signalled at them to come over.
'Yaxley,' Aloysia said politely in greeting, though Hermione didn't miss how she blocked his line of sight to her with the way she positioned her body.
Friendly but no trust .
Hludowig's hand came to rest on Hermione's shoulder, signalling her to halt. His wand was now no longer obscured and neither was Aloysia's.
'Mrs Grindelwald, the Dark Lord wishes you wait with her to the right side of the stage,' he said, nodding to Hermione over Aloysia's shoulder. His eyes flickered between their drawn wands to Hermione. 'Don't worry I bear no ill will to the girl. The Lestranges were never my kind of people, and the Dark Lord's wish is my command, and his wish is that she's not to be touched.'
Suddenly Hludowig swirled her around, pushing Hermione behind him as his wand flashed. The gong of the shield it reverberated on was a powerful one. A light flared up, illuminating the long, pale and twisted face of Antonin Dolohov.
Damn, that bastard was up again. She'd so hoped he'd be out much longer. Not that she knew how much time had passed and whether or not Voldemort had awoken and healed him. He seemed fine, despite the wounds Voldemort's pendant had inflicted upon him.
Such a pity.
How come he was still alive anyway? If she'd truly thrown Killing Curses around like Herrmann had said (she still wasn't sure she believed it, not until she got her memories back), why had none hit him? Life was so unfair.
'You were always such a slivering wimp, Yaxley,' Dolohov said, scratching his cheek with his wand, 'but I, for one, do not trust the motives of these losers from Grindelwald.'
'Is that so?' Hludowig said, snorting. 'And what, pray tell, will you do about it?'
'I'm making sure you and your missus over there don't go against the Dark Lord's wishes and the girl remains unharmed and not suddenly in your old Master's clutches.'
Hmmm … now there was a disturbing thought she'd not yet considered. The couple of times she'd met Gellert Grindelwald she hadn't been sure what to make of him. There was something about his demeanour to her that made her skin crawl even when he'd been polite and had helped Professor Dumbledore. She had the distinct impression he wanted her to fail in her assignment for some reason.
Unfortunately that meant that Dolohov did have a point. Could she truly trust these two? They'd been fighting when she'd woken after all. About her, perhaps?
Hludowig snorted. 'Even if Gellert were even remotely interested in this country, which I sincerely doubt, I think you'll find his interests lie not with Miss Granger but someone else.'
'Exactly why I don't trust either of you. Next you'll be working for Albus, just like Severus did.'
Well, if that were the case, she wouldn't have to worry.
'You'll find that the last thing I'd do would be Albus Dumbledore's bidding.'
Okay, back to worrying.
'So you say now, but you were really buddy-buddy with Gellert, weren't you? Was sodding Dumbledore standing in your way? Is that why you'll never do his bidding, 'cause you're jealous? And what if Gellert says, if you bring Miss Granger to Albus, he'll give you the pleasure of finally fucking him?'
Aloysia laughed louder than Hludowig.
'Oh dear, he thinks you never fucked Gellert.'
'Apparently,' Hludowig said, shrugging his broad shoulders. 'I thought it was pretty well known we both did. Together. At the same time, too. It was always in all the gossip columns.'
He winked over his shoulder to Aloysia, but Hermione noted his attention never truly wavered from Dolohov. So did the dark wizard who stoically stood there. Dolohov's grey eyes were sharply tracking every move of them.
'Ah, to be young again and flexible,' Aloysia said dreamily. 'Gellert fucks everything that moves, mr Dolohov, even women at times if that gets him the man he truly wants to fuck. Perhaps you want to amend your approach if you wish to rouse us into anger?'
'I'm not interested in angering you.'
Even without being a Legilimens, Hermione could tell that had to be a lie. It was a badly disguised lie, too, like he couldn't care to try.
'Ah, so was it a proposal then?' Hludowig asked, stroking his goatee.
His left arm's sleeve dropped from that action, showing a clear forearm—no Dark Mark in sight.
Hermione's eyebrows rose, taking in that information and what it could possibly mean that Voldemort had felt comfortable enough to leave him in charge of her safety without his mark on the wizard. She remembered conversing with him quite amicably on that rock, but surely that wouldn't be enough to trust him? Especially since Voldemort's own life was at risk if something happened to her. She must be missing something here, something he took from her mind. She bit her lip, trying to squash down her rising emotions of being violated like that. She needed to keep it together. She would get nowhere with Voldemort if she was an emotional mess. He'd likely just curse her in aggravation.
'I suppose without Gellert, we could use—' Aloysia started deviously.
They were clearly trying to rouse Dolohov's anger now.
'I am only here to offer Miss Granger my help,' Dolohov interrupted so fast that it made Aloysia smirk.
Hermione didn't get the chance to say where he could stuff his help.
'I don't think she wants or needs your help,' Hludowig replied.
'Miss Granger, I believe we started off on the wrong foot,' Dolohov said smoothly, now ignoring the man fully. 'I was unaware of your significance to the Dark Lord, but your powers have been firmly established today. If you ever require any assistance with anything, feel free to owl me. You may find some of the Dark Lord's followers are more useful than others.'
On that note, Dolohov turned off his wand's light and walked away.
'Any more surprises?' Aloysia asked Yaxley, sharply.
'No, don't worry,' he said, standing there, having taken in everything that had occurred silently.
Hermione had completely forgotten he was there. She scolded herself for that blatant oversight, remembering how Voldemort had told her to always pay attention to her environment. She really thought she'd got better at it. Clearly it still needed work.
'Avery is on the other end of the stage. He's still upset about the Lestranges, but he knows better than to disobey the Dark Lord. Lucius won't dream to make a fuss, especially knowing now that his wife and son are with Dumbledore. He's probably trying to appear as invisible as he possibly can. Most of the others will just see this as an opportunity to climb the ranks, replacing the Lestranges at the Dark Lord's side.'
Like you.
'And that fucker?' Aloysia added, jabbing her wand in the direction Dolohov had disappeared in.
'Antonin, well, he likes to play with his food and has taken an interest in Miss Granger. Her killing the Lestranges really made him notice her, but he also won't do anything until the Dark Lord approves it.'
Hermione heard the underlying messages. They were all convinced eventually Voldemort would hang her out to dry when she'd served her usefulness. She wasn't so sure she disagreed with that statement. She also heard Yaxley confirming that she'd killed the Lestranges, plural, not just Bellatrix. Apparently, Hludowig Herrmann hadn't lied to her. She wished she felt something, anything, but not having her own memories of the event made her feel composed, almost frigid, like there was a blank space in her heart that could not be filled. She had pushed those wonderful feelings he'd forced upon her behind closed doors, but now all she felt was a dark, impassive coldness that didn't feel like her either. She had to get her memories back. She had to be herself again. One way or another.
'I doubt anyone will try something today, not while he's here, but …' Yaxley turned quiet.
'I shouldn't run into them alone,' Hermione filled out for him.
Yaxley nodded. 'That would be advisable. The Dark Lord chose these two to protect you because they had no prior dealings with any of Potter's friends.'
'And they don't care that I'm a Muggleborn witch,' Hermione added.
A sly smile appeared on Yaxley's face.
'Come now, Miss Granger, you can drop that nonsense. We've uncovered your true heritage. The Dark Lord revealed to all how you're related to Hector Dagworth-Granger of all people. We should've known. You're top of your class. You couldn't possibly be a Mudblood.'
Hermione's fingers clenched into fists as she stepped away from Hludowig, her eyes narrowing. This guy was enjoying that information a tad more than anyone out of the loop would.
'Was that your doing?' she hissed. 'You were at the Ministry, too. You're an Unspeakable, right? You've got the access.'
'Careful now, girl, you don't want to go accusing random wizards of being Unspeakables, that never ends well for those involved.'
'And you don't want to go threaten the girl in front of us when we,' Aloysia said, gesturing between her and Hludowig casually with her wand; Hermione noticed how Yaxley followed its movement cautiously, 'have a blanket licence from the Dark Lord to do whatever we think is necessary to protect her safety.'
Yaxley's eyes kept darting between the both of them as if contemplating his odds when he suddenly winced, clutching his forearm. He looked over his shoulder.
'You better get in there. He's getting impatient.'
With that said, he turned around abruptly and moved inside.
'That's what you've gotten on your arm, too,' Hludowig whispered. 'Seems pleasant.'
Aloysia shrugged. 'You do you, Hludowig. I make my own choices.'
She went through the door, not waiting for a reply, but that exchange told Hermione enough. Aloysia Grindelwald had taken Voldemort's mark. She was a full-blown Death Eater.
'And such marvellous choices they are, death or eternal servitude,' Hludowig muttered under his breath before looking at Hermione. 'Stay close to me.'
Hludowig Herrmann clearly wasn't and didn't seem at all eager to become one, too. Perhaps that had been what they were arguing about before?
Hermione nodded quietly as they went in after Aloysia Grindelwald. She felt Voldemort's wards slide over her skin as they entered this rather large hall. She recognised some type of identifying ward, another ward that kept people inside said hall (quite similar as the one that had been around her room at Malfoy Manor), and several others she wasn't sure of their usages. Most likely one was an Anti-Apparition ward. It seemed a bit much since she recalled he'd been in the process of resetting the Azkaban wards, too, and he'd been aiming to merge two alpha class wards on the island's perimeter.
Maybe something had gone wrong? Maybe he hadn't succeeded, and that's why all these wards were here? Somehow she couldn't imagine. It had to be something else.
She looked around. The hall itself seemed like it had been carved out recently with all the obvious rough patches on the walls. Its sloppiness signified to her that it was clearly not Voldemort's handiwork. There were far more people here than she'd imagined; though from the looks of things, some were not so much his followers but regular inmates just looking to see where things would lead to and if there was any entertainment to be had. Some didn't even acknowledge her presence, while others seemed bemused, interested, hostile and even —weirdly enough— fearful.
Dolohov smiled at her from across the room, making her glad at Hludowig's close presence. One filthy, grey-haired dude eyed her body rather lecherously, which made Hermione realise that Voldemort had attached Aloysia and Hludowig to her side, not so much because he'd been concerned about his followers disobeying him, but more because he wasn't sure what those who weren't yet in his service would do to her when he wasn't there personally.
Then she caught Avery's absolute hostile stare from across the room and had to reconsider that thought. If looks could kill, she was a dead witch.
Quickly she turned her attention away, and to her surprise, she noticed Barty Crouch Jr, sitting on the edge of the stage—his signature mop of straw-coloured hair had many flecks of grey in them now, and his pale, freckled face was lined even more. He seemed to have aged considerably since the brief time she'd seen him last, being carried away by Aurors, with his soul sucked out by a Dementor. He was much thinner, too. He dangled his legs back and forth, which gave off a childlike impression, yet his eyes shone bright with clear knowledge of self and what was going on. Had his soul been returned to him? Was that even possible? She'd never read anything of the sorts happening before, and she'd researched Dementors quite thoroughly during their third year in the hopes of finding something to assist Harry.
In awe she looked to the tall, imposing wizard on the slightly elevated stage; it had to have been him that had cured Crouch Jr. That was one hell of an achievement. She recalled how the Dementors had reacted to his presence. They hadn't been his adversaries at all, despite him shredding one of them to pieces. He really was a brilliant wizard, and oh so powerful, too. Her thighs clenched and her heart skipped a beat when his snakelike features seemed positively delighted at something before him. She couldn't see what or more likely who; the crowd was firmly in her way, but that didn't matter. Voldemort's delight radiated off him in waves of dark power—that was something Hermione never could get enough of, the way his magic slid over her skin and ignited her senses. His mere presence was positively intoxicating and entrancing.
However, her blood turned to ice when she heard that obnoxious giggle she would recognise anywhere in the world. Her teeth clenched, and her nostrils flared when that saccharine voice said how much she admired the Dark Lord and how she'd always been on his side, disgusted by filthy half breeds and Mudbloods.
As if Lord Voldemort sensed her revulsion, those red eyes glanced sideways, catching her gaze before sliding over her figure as if searching for something. A slight tug of the corner of his mouth showed his amusement when she crossed her arms in front of her chest, glaring daggers at him.
First, he'd fucked with her memory, then disabled his pendant, then taken her wand, and now he was actually being interested in what that godawful, ministry-loving bureaucrat had to say to him?! If Dumbledore hadn't saved that bitch, she wouldn't have to listen to that obnoxious voice ever again. She really wished she never had to listen to that witch ever again. Never again. Hermione felt furious, wrathful.
However, Voldemort turned away from her, focusing back on the undoubtedly pink atrocity before him. Dolores Umbridge hadn't stopped speaking when Voldemort had looked sideways, torturing everyone's eardrums with her overly sweet voice, but now she quieted down.
'We've been evaluating the quality of Hogwarts' teachers,' Voldemort said barely above a whisper but it carried throughout the entire space.
Hermione huffed. So much for quality if he relied on the likes of Umbridge.
Such a disappointment. She really thought he was smarter than that.
Aloysia Grindelwald raised her eyebrows at her clear irritation, but Hermione didn't feel like explaining. There was a dark mood shifting through the room, an anticipation of things to come rising. The hairs on her arms rose. It made her decidedly uncomfortable. She almost wanted to open the doors in her mind to that nice comfortable fake feeling he'd given —no, forced upon— her.
Almost.
Umbridge giggled loudly, clearly unaffected by the descending darkness or enjoying it.
Said idiotic giggles scratched all over Hermione's skin like nails scraped over a chalkboard.
'I'm sure that was quite a disappointment,' Umbridge said in a sickeningly sweet tone. 'I've seen what goes on there, and a purging is very much needed. Now, there's this oaf they—'
'I've heard you taught Defence Against the Dark Arts,' Voldemort interrupted, stroking his chin as if he were contemplating something.
Maybe that useless curse of his that couldn't even eradicate toads, Hermione considered, irritated.
'Oh yes, Ministry standards only of course. Not what that fool Dumbledore thinks is appropriate to show vulnerable children. Order must be had, you see. My educational degrees took a firm stance in keeping everyone, including those nasty disruptive elements, under control. You may have heard of them?'
'I have one of your … "vulnerable",'' he said the word with an overly mocking lilt, ignoring her other comments, 'students here.'
With an absentminded wave of Voldemort's wandhand, the floor underneath Hermione rose. She clutched to Hludowig's arm in shock. Aloysia's hand was on her other arm, steadying her as well. The height of their floor stopped at the same level as Voldemort's stage, forming a direct connection, which meant she now had a clear line of sight of the witch she loathed more than anything in the world. Barty Crouch's eyes were some of the few that noticed her, and he merely smiled approvingly at her, as if she were a comrade of his. Some sniggering went through the crowd that very much started to feel like a pack of hyenas about the descent upon their prey, but Umbridge seemed blissfully unaware. Her toadlike eyes had darted to Lucius Malfoy, who stood a couple of meters to the left of Voldemort and seemed decidedly unhappy the witch was bringing attention to his existence.
'Of course, of course,' Umbridge said happily, clearly searching Lucius's area for Draco's presence, 'I'm sure young Mr Malfoy will attest to how my teachings were of the highest standards. He was such a fine—'
'Oooh,' Voldemort interrupted, drawing out that syllable with a laugh. 'I fear young Draco couldn't make it, isn't that right, Lucius?'
Barely suppressed laughter rippled through the crowd. Barty seemed positively gleeful. If Lucius could've disappeared into the wall behind him, he would've. He pressed himself that hard against it as if he wanted nothing more than not to be here right now. It didn't take a genius to see that.
'No, no,' Voldemort continued, a broad smile erupting on his seemingly lipless mouth, 'I'm afraid we have to ask someone else if your lessons were up to par. Right, Miss Granger?'
Dolores Jane Umbridge seemed struck by lightning. She stood there, utterly still, unmoving. Hermione's mouth briefly curled into a vicious smile before controlling her expression, but the crowd's sniggering had already turned to outright laughter. Slowly, Umbridge regained her senses, hesitantly following the direction Voldemort was looking at. Her mouth dropped agape when her eyes indeed confirmed that Hermione Granger —a Mudblood, Harry Potter's friend— stood there. Umbridge's broad, flappy face paled ever so rapidly. Hermione rather enjoyed seeing her wide, slack mouth hang open in utter shock and disbelief.
'Of course should Miss Granger not be satisfied, that might have rather detrimental consequences,' Voldemort added softly, his wand twirling between his fingers.
Umbridge's head swivelled between him and Hermione; her disbelief replaced with a panic that ever so evidently erupted on her face. She took a step towards Hermione, stopping immediately when Herrmann's broad figure stepped warningly in front of her, making sure his wand was visible.
'I wonder what she'll say about your teachings, your ministerial standards and your educational degrees, don't you?' Voldemort taunted. 'Do you reckon she'll give you a positive evaluation?'
The crowd went wild. Umbridge's eyes bulged; her decidedly sweaty palms stroked over her pink cardigan, nervously adjusting her clothing.
'Tell him, Miss Granger,' she said, her desperation leaking through, 'tell him I'm a good teacher.'
Hermione stared at the witch in disbelief, feeling a cold iciness settle upon her, as the most suitable, exactly right words prompted inside her brain and left her mouth before she could think it through.
'I must not tell lies.'
It satisfied Hermione immensely to see how the recognition of those words sank into Dolores Umbridge, how it practically shrank her existence. Her foul torture was now coming back at her, and the irony that the words she had Harry Potter carve into his skin were now being used against her in the Dark Lord's lair of all places by a Mudblood no less was not lost on either of them.
'Well, that doesn't sound like a ringing endorsement to me, does it?' Voldemort said, slowly gliding towards Hermione. 'But perhaps we can fix this, find a way for you to be a useful teacher after all.'
'I am useful, I will be useful,' Umbridge said, her pouchy eyes wild, shaking her pink bow loose in her mousy hair. 'Please, I will be most useful to you, my Lord. I hate halfbreeds and Mu—' she stopped, her eyes glancing at Hermione in confusement before adding fast, 'I tortured Potter. That's why she's saying this. She wants revenge. She is—'
Umbridge's mouth was moving but no more sound came forward. Barty pocketed his wand. She tried to walk towards them, but a flick of Voldemort's wrist immobilised her. Aloysia Grindelwald stepped to the side to make room, and he stopped right in front of Hermione, smirking down at her. Hludowig Herrmann was still standing there, eyeing the crowd threateningly.
'So, a bad teacher then?' Voldemort semi-asked, pulling out her wand and holding it out.
It didn't escape Hermione's notice that several people took a step back as she accepted it.
'The worst,' Hermione said, glaring at the immobilised witch.
'She tortured you and your friends, and she very much enjoyed it, Hermione.'
'I'm quite aware.'
What was he getting at?
'So make her pay,' Voldemort said, calmly walking to her side and holding his hand out wide towards Umbridge.
Immediately, the crowd that had closed in on the doomed witch now scattered away as if afraid to be struck by a misfire, a misfire of the Cruciatus Curse. Hermione knew that was what he was demanding of her. It wasn't just him either. The darkness inside of her was demanding it, too. Was it really so bad? She'd already performed two Unforgivables apparently, and it's not like anyone here would arrest her for it. And it was Dolores Jane Umbridge. She had it coming, didn't she?
'You have to mean it, little one, and I can sense it in you right now. That desire to hurt. She has no usage really. I could kill her now if you wish or you could—'
She didn't let him finish. Umbridge had escaped her once, being saved by Professor Dumbledore from Hermione's wrath. She wouldn't escape again.
'Crucio!'
Voldemort released his hold on the witch the second the Unforgivable struck her. Dolores Umbridge fell to the ground, twisting and writhing; her screams filled the air.
The Cruciatus Curse appeared to be unexpectedly pleasant to cast, leaving a tingling sensation all over her body in its wake. Hermione lowered her wand, looking at Voldemort quite pleased. That had gone really well. She'd had more trouble with the Volantius Curse than this one.
'Again,' he said, before she could open her mouth. 'And this time, less movement of your arm; focus and concentrate. You want her to hurt, don't you? Not give her an orgasm.'
Dolohov, Yaxley and Crouch Jr. were the only ones sniggering at that. All the others were quiet, watching the interactions between them carefully.
'I'm not giving—'
'Again,' Voldemort interrupted, giving her a warning look that meant do not disrespect me .
She snapped her mouth shut, turning around to see Umbridge was already getting back up on her feet, despite some of the shaking in her limbs.
Well, damn.
Clearly, Voldemort had been right. That just wouldn't do.
Umbridge opened her mouth to speak.
'Crucio!' Hermione cast, this time putting all her power and will in it.
Umbridge thrashed around, smacking with her head against the floor yet staying conscious as her shrill screams echoed through the hall. Voldemort stepped behind Hermione, wrapping his arm around her waist and taking a hold of her wandarm. She stopped casting, twisting her head to look up questioningly at him.
'You feel it, don't you, little one?' he whispered into her ear. 'If performed correctly, there's a flow throughout your entire body.'
'Why is that only with the Cruciatus Curse?'
'Because it takes from its victim and enhances your powers.'
Hermione frowned, not having noticed that.
'Again, and pay attention.'
She looked at Dolores Umbridge who was still on the floor, panting and sobbing, not making any attempts to rise this time around. That was an improvement at least.
Stilling inside herself, reaching into that darkness, that vengeful delight, that need she had to hurt that pink toad, Hermione raised her wand. Voldemort's grip on her arm tightened.
'Crucio!'
Voldemort's power flowed with her, following her lead, as the curse struck Umbridge dead on. Because his power was there, she sensed the loop as his magic showed her how her Cruciatus impact activated Umbridge's neural system and magical pathways to fire at Hermione's will, how the Cruciatus was in essence turning its victim's powers against themselves, hurting themselves, while also sending positive signals towards their attacker and enhancing their casting, their power, their ability to hurt you as well. It was a double whammy.
Oh, this is beyond precious.
She could do this forever. She was on top of the world. So much magic, so much exhilaration, such delight.
This is what you deserve, bitch.
Voldemort let go gently, stepping back, but she wasn't done yet. Her face was flushed, her hair crackling with magic; she held that curse with the ease of a seasoned dark witch.
For how you tortured Harry. For Hagrid. For McGonagall. Even for Trelawney.
For me.
You ruined my lessons for a whole year!
For me.
For me, you utter despicable bureaucratic monster of a —
A flash of green illuminated her casting, leaving Hermione disoriented for a moment, while the light left Umbridge's eyes and she was no more. Voldemort cupped her cheek, looking down at her with satisfaction spread all over his snakelike features.
Everything was green.
Green.
All was not well.
'That's quite enough for now, Hermione Granger. A near perfect performance of all three Unforgivables—'
His words disappeared into the distance as another's words took over in a misty green haze.
'No, no, no, not you, Hermione! Oh my God, sweet child, they can't have you, too!'
Charity Burbage's face contorted in pain, her screams unimaginable as her broken bones chattered further despite her not doing anything to cause it. A gulf of blood left her mouth, her body buckling as she nearly choked on it. Hermione felt utterly helpless, wishing she had something on her to help. Her wand wasn't enough. Her measly 'Episkey!' had zero effect. She needed Healing Potions and Charms she hadn't learned yet.
'She's gone,' Hludowig Herrmann said softly, having come up beside her.
'She used to teach me,' Hermione said with a small voice. 'She was so kind and understanding when I told her I had to drop her class because I was overworked. There must be some way to help.'
'That curse has no counter, and it's designed to kill its victims as slowly and painfully as possible. It can take her weeks to die from it. Give me your wand. I'll finish her.'
Snaps of bones resetting one by one in the wrong position had Professor Burbage hollering in pain.
'No,' Hermione said decisively.
'Help, oh Merlin, please help. Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop!'
'I'm not lying to you, Miss Granger, not even a team of the bestest Healers in the world can help her.'
'Please, please, please!'
Burbage's fingernails scratched her face, drawing deep bloody lines. Over and over again, she seemed to have no control over the movement. Hermione raised her wand, her hand shaking.
'I know, but this is my responsibility, not yours.'
For a brief moment, her old professor looked straight at her, clarity in her vision, her thumbs going to her eyes.
'Hermione … please.'
There was an audible pop, and not wanting to see what happened to Charity Burbage's eyes, Hermione closed hers, and cast,
'Avada Kedavra!'
A furious scream sounded in the distance.
Hermione's entire vision was engulfed with green light, even behind her closed eyelids.
But her eyes were open and Professor Burbage wasn't here. Voldemort was. She felt sick, dizzy, like the world had abruptly stopped turning on its axis and made everything green in its wake. Something sour rose in her throat. Voldemort's fingers squeezed her cheek, bringing her back fully in the here and now. The heat of his magic swirled around her, centring her.
'I—' she started, feeling utterly distressed and nauseated now. Her hands trembled. She'd killed Professor Burbage, one of the kindest teachers she'd ever met.
She.
Had.
Killed.
Professor.
Charity.
Burbage.
Voldemort's presence pressed against her mind.
No, please, don't .
You cannot show weakness now, vibrated inside her mind. Not around everyone here. Steel yourself or I will do it for you.
She focused, making sure to take deep even breaths and not let herself be overwhelmed by what she'd just witnessed herself do. His presence receded from her mind, but his magic stayed around her, steadying her. It helped her gain back control. She blinked, looking up at those red eyes. There was no one else here for her now than him.
In and out, she breathed, feeling herself calm down, her nausea vanishing, her dizziness gone.
'Good girl.'
'I need to know everything that happened,' she whispered quietly, 'what I did.'
He nodded.
'We'll talk. Later.'
He whirled away from her.
'Lucius, pick up the trash and take it out if you can manage that at least.'
'Yes, my Lord.'
Hastily, Lucius Malfoy rushed to the dead witch and then stood there, undecidedly. He was about to bend forward and grab the witch manually when Voldemort interfered, freezing him on the spot.
'Oh my apologies,' Voldemort said unapologetically. 'I forgot you need a wand for that, don't you? A shame you're not much of a wizard without one. Avery, did we find Lucius's cane yet or did his wife take it with her to Albus Dumbledore?'
Avery smirked, seemingly enjoying Malfoy's plight.
'I'm afraid we haven't located it in Azkaban's vault, my Lord.'
'Pity,' Voldemort said. 'It seems you'll be doing this the Muggle way, Lucius. How positively embarrassing for you.'
Lots of people in the hall mockingly laughed as Lucius physically dragged Umbridge's body away by her stubby legs. His pale cheeks coloured red with embarrassment. And nobody came to his aid. Because of the way he was moving, his hair dislodged from his combover, and his skull became visible at the right side of his head where Hermione's curse had cleanly sliced off his hair. If there was a millimeter of hair left, it would be much. Herrmann suddenly blocked her vision, his hand came to rest on her arm.
'I'm okay,' she said, realising the question in those brown eyes.
'Okay,' he said, nodding before turning away and keeping an eye on everyone there again.
A red owl flashed beside Voldemort's head.
Nebi.
What did the Keepers want now?
Resigned, Voldemort shook his head and said, 'Antonin, please take over. You know what needs doing.'
He spun on the spot when Hermione shouted, panicking he was about to leave her behind, 'Wait!'
The entirety of the room held their breath. Barty raised an eyebrow at her, still smiling. Lucius Malfoy looked up, staring at her with wide eyes. Voldemort halted his Disapparition, quietly appraising her.
Her face burned in embarrassment, but really, did he honestly think she wanted to be left behind with these people? He might've given her her wand back, but still, she had no business being here. He knew that.
'Well, my pet ,' Voldemort said with a smirk, holding out that abnormally long-fingered hand.
Fuck. He'd tricked her into shouting.
She had thought her face couldn't get any redder, but now everyone in the entire room was assuming things about her that were none of their business. The disgusted look Lucius gave her was typical, as if he wouldn't touch her body with a ten foot pole and couldn't believe his Master did. The leers some of the others now send her way were positively humiliating and embarrassing. Dolohov winked at her as he ascended the stage.
'If you are that desperate to stay with me, come then.'
She swallowed, steeling her nerves and holding her head high before making what felt like the longest track across the planet. His fingers curled around hers before he pulled her close. Knowing everyone was watching, she didn't quite know what to do with her arms now.
'No need to be shy now, Hermione Jean Granger, hold tight. It would be a shame after all if that delectable young body of yours got Splinched right after we found out you're of a proper wizarding pedigree. Imagine how distraught I'd be if my little half-blood could no longer service me.'
Mortified, she bit her lip at the catcalls and jeering laughter that spread through the place at his clear mocking of her. She realised she'd brought this upon herself with her outburst, but still, did he have to go there? They would all consider her his slut or whore now. Her hands trembled as she took a hold of him, nowhere near tight enough, and she knew it. He knew it. His arm grabbed her tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against his body.
Then he spun them on the spot and away they went.
xxx
Author's Note:
Well, I suppose this was a shock to you all. I'm so sorry for the long time and the lacking replies. I had real trouble with this chapter over the years, and every time someone left a review, I tried again and then it would be absolute rubbish, and I'd just leave it, feeling guilty, but the story never slipped my mind fully.
Recently Brunamil left several comments on AO3, inspiring me to try once more, and this time, I didn't get stuck halfway through and was satisfied with the chapter. The new approach solved all the problems of the previous chapters (I got quite a pile of chapter 30/34 now) while still putting forward all the information necessary.
Anyway, I hope you all liked it, and I'm glad to finally get to some of the scenes in this story next that I've been dying to write ever since I started this story more than a decade ago. * hides in shame once more *
Thank you all for your incredible patience and loving reviews. 3
xoxox Nerys.
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