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Serpentine Series	By : HarmonyB Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 12060 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING IN REGARDS TO THE HARRY POTTER FANDOM NOR DO I MAKE MONEY OFF OF THIS STORY.

Chapter List
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Serpentine series

Book Two

Whispers from the Past

On the run from the Ministry, Hermione desperately seeks out help despite being named a traitor throughout the Wizarding World for helping Voldemort. All the while, she tries to avoid the fate of her Serpentine charm, but is that possible?

CHAPTER ONE
A broad shouldered man with dark hair strode between the trees on a dirt path. Over his shoulders he carried a heavy load of goods, prepared and ready to be sold. The man breathed in the freshness of the damp earth while turning his dark eyes upward to the rising sun that turned the leaves of the trees fluorescent green. The day had just begun, and he needed to hurry to Shell cottage before Mrs. Fleur Weasley started cooking. That pretty miss will be wanting her goods for breakfast,he thought, imagining the part-veela blushing with joy at seeing his arrival. When the Weasley couple had first moved to the cottage on the shore he had readily agreed to take trading goods to them to save them the trip to town. Besides receiving a heavy purse, one of his loves in life, he always received a small kiss on the cheek from the sweet Fleur in thanks. That was almost as good as a pocket full of galleons. But with all the fuss of You-Know-Who's escape from Hogwarts last night, Bill Weasley will most likely be gone with the Ministry leaving Miss Fleur all alone. A wicked smile crept on his lips at the thought.
The dark-haired man could hear the roar of the waves become more prominent as he approached the break in the trees. He soaked in the salty air while the sun rose over the horizon. Just ahead of him was Shell cottage, resting like a sand castle next to the open sea.
But instead of coming across the usually peaceful atmosphere of the cottage, he was met with screams.
Standing fifty yards from the little house, he saw quick shadows moving in the windows. For a moment he thought Bill and Fleur Weasley were having an argument. Strange, the man thought, they seemed like such a nice couple. But then he heard yelling from a masculine voice, and the voice sounded nothing like Bill.
The hairs on the back of his neck bristled. His mind raced at the possibility that Fleur Weasley was being attacked this very moment, and his instincts told him to shoot down the grassy hill to the cottage to save her. But his legs didn't move. Maybe he should hurry back to town and bring back help. The thoughts spurring through his mind ceased when flashes of wand lights lit up from inside the cottage. And then everything fell silent.
Gargoyles, could Fleur be dead? After a tense moment, he saw movement again within the cottage. He felt for his wand up his sleeve in case he needed to take action when the attacker appeared. He held his breath, dark eyes glaring at the entrance to Shell cottage, waiting. He nearly squealed and fell back when the door flew open and a young woman sprinted out. He drunk in the sight of her: black clothes, unruly dark blonde hair, barefoot, and with a small sac thrown over her shoulders. He saw a quick glimpse of the young woman's face while she sprinted to the concealment of the forest. He would never forget that expression on her face from that one glance: it wasn't fear, like he would have expected, but deep sadness, as though she discovered she was the reason the world would end. As she disappeared behind the trees in the forest, he was surprised to feel he had seen her face before—not like he had met her, but perhaps he had seen a picture of her.
The man looked back to the cottage hoping to catch another sign of movement. While his attention was on the girl he hadn't noticed the tall man. He stood in the doorway of the cottage, his eyes looking after the girl.
The air left his lungs in a rush and his eyes bulged in fear. He stumbled backwards and dove behind a tree, fumbling for his wand. He swore under his breath. You-Know-Who, he screamed in his mind, here! Very slowly, inch by inch, he moved his head out from behind the tree, his eyes searching frantically for the World's most deadly wizard. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was still standing at the entrance to Shell cottage; he, too, was barefoot, with his black shirt unbuttoned and his pants in a mess of wrinkles. He had never seen You-Know-Who in person, but right away he noticed something was wrong with the dark wizard. His piercing blue eyes that stared after the girl seemed out of focus. His pale hands grasped the doorframe, as though to keep himself from toppling over.
His heart pounded in his ears as—for the very first time ever—he feared for his life. He didn't want to think Fleur had been in the cottage when You-Know-Who arrived, that could mean only one thing…But why was the Dark Lordhere?
Then it clicked in his mind why he'd found the young woman familiar: her face was posted on the "Wanted" boards at the entrance to town. Her picture was posted only this morning, and he had just glanced at it on his way out to Shell cottage.
He swore again under his breath. He had to warn everyone. The girl was rumored to as wanted as You-Know-Who by the Ministry, with quite a large reward for her capture. The man thought a moment, ideas popping into his mind. She couldn't have gone too far away now, he thought as his mind whirred into action. The Ministry would sure get a kick out of that: a small-town trader brings down the world's most wanted criminal. His stomach fluttered at the thought. He could do it. Oh, and what he would do with all that money; he could finally get a girl like Fleur to fall for him.
But the girl will be hard to get with You-Know-Who guarding her like the poster warned she would be.
He focused back on the cottage, but the Dark Lord was no longer standing at the entrance. He began to panic and looked over his shoulder to make sure You-Know-Who wasn't suddenly standing behind him. Then he spotted a shadow moving in one of the windows of the cottage, and he let go of his breath. He slowly stood off the damp earth with quivering legs. With the tree still shielding him, he stepped away from the cottage into the shadows of the trees. When he was absolutely sure it would be impossible for You-Know-Who to see him, he spun around and sprinted away. He ran all the way back to town to sound the alarm.
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Serpentine Series