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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 37648 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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.

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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory

I don't wanna talk

About things we've gone through

Though it's hurting me

Now it's history

I played all my cards

And that's what you've done too

Nothing more to say

No more Ace to play

The winner takes it all

The loser standing small

Beside the victory

That's her destiny.

Abba, The winner takes it all.

Chapter four

I'm in my own, private, personal little hell, and it's more horrific than I've ever imagined it would be. I hear the words Lord Voldemort speaks with so much venom that I can hardly believe it. I've never thought I've aggravated him this much.

'I did not give you permission to speak to me, Mudblood. Silencio.'

I close my eyes at the flash, knowing this will only be the beginning.

'What's the matter, Granger? Lost your wand? Having problems casting nonverbal spells? Come on woman, at least try to put up a fight. Potter and Weasley would be so disappointed. You know, I crushed that boyfriend of yours like a bug, Granger. Ronald Weasley was crying for his mommy when I tortured him. And he screamed out your name. He prayed you would save him, but you never came. You left him to die. So I killed him, Hermione Granger, as you knew I would. It's what I do with vermin. I eradicate them.'

I feel a tear fall from my eye. Ron, I suddenly miss him so much, but Voldemort continues his furious speech and all I can do is listen. Listen to the vile words, he wants me to hear.

'And you… you've been an annoying piece of weed I've been waiting to pull from the ground for years. And now I can, Granger. Your time is up. I'm going to destroy you. You will pay for your insolent defiance of me, you and your entire disgusting bloodline. You will tell me where to find your filthy muggle parents, and then I will show you the true meaning of defeat.'

I can tell he spits the words out with all the force he can muster. I have never before realised he is that obsessed with me. I have never considered my roll to be important, not after we lost the war, anyway. So I've always assumed, he is searching for me, because of my friendship with Harry Potter, but there is too much emotion in his voice for this to be merely about Harry.

'Hold still or…'

I hear the threat and I hope beyond hope that everything is going to be alright, that nothing bad is going to happen. But I hear his cold and soft voice say in a very satisfied tone: 'Feel free to scream in your mind, dear. This is going to hurt.'

I stand frozen, my back against the door of the living room and I know he has done something dreadful to Sir Reginald Murdoch as I hear Voldemort's high pitched laugh come from the hall behind me.

It is as I said, I'm in my own personal hell, and I'll never be able to leave again, knowing I condemned another to be tortured in my place. I watch the object in my left hand, telling myself I had to do this. That I had no choice; that I had to prevent Lord Voldemort from obtaining the real Amulet of Aine. No matter what or how.

If only I would have gone to Sir Murdoch sooner; if only I had not wanted the situation to be perfect, completely planned out, then maybe I would have been out of this country already and Sir Murdoch in relative peace.

I've always scolded Harry for being too impulsive, for not thinking before he acted. I even accused him once of having a hero complex, but now I think I should have been more like Harry. I should have shown a bit more action, and a lot less debating and weighing all the possible options and outcomes with myself. I guess my tendency to over think matters, and my need to see all the variables in play, has been the cause of the hell I am in right now.

It's not that Sir Murdoch is a nice and kind man. He is a cruel, nasty, arrogant bigot, who was about to turn me over to the Dark Lord. I remember standing in his living room and arguing with him about the necklace. Murdoch is reluctant to give it to me, because of Lord Voldemort's message. He does not want to get Crucio-ed for handing it over to me. I threaten him with the wrath of the elves, but he is not impressed. He says I can wait and have this discussion with the Dark Lord. He says that he isn't going to be in the middle of some turf war between the Elves and the Dark Lord. So I tell him the truth. I tell him the Amulet will make Voldemort immortal, and he still wants to wait. He simply does not care about others. He says he is going to die soon anyway and he does not care what the Dark Lord does in his spare time.

So I use the Imperius Curse and he hands me the necklace, but when I want to leave the mansion, I feel the wards shift, and as I look out the window I see him. Lord Voldemort is already here. His early arrival can only mean one thing, my cover has been blown. So he must have found out that I am Hermione Granger, and that I am after the Amulet of Aine as well.

I pull a vial of Polyjuice Potion out of my beaded bag, yank out one of my Aine hairs and one from Sir Murdoch, and then … I do the unthinkable. I make the switch. He becomes Aine Alberon, a.k.a. Hermione Granger, and I become Sir Reginald Murdoch. I keep him under the Imperius Curse for as long as I can, but I lose control after I hear Voldemort cast the Sectumsempra Curse at him. The pain shakes Sir Reginald out from underneath my grasp, and I quickly open the living room door to check on the situation.

Voldemort tells me to 'go to my room' like you order a petulant child, and upon leaving the hall, my eyes glance over the bleeding man on the floor. He seems to be in a horrible condition. And I'm wondering whether my choice will be the death of him, because at his age, having to deal with assaults like that on your physical condition can't be easy. I close the door behind me, praying I am not going to be found out, and I hear Sir Murdoch trying to warn Voldemort, trying to tell him who he really is, but Voldemort does not let him finish his sentence and the Dark Lord's next action saves my skin. He uses the Silencing Charm on Murdoch.

So I wait and listen. Listen to Voldemort rant about my gross inabilities and what he will do to me, to Sir Murdoch. Until I hear the two sentences that will keep me awake for nights to come.

'Feel free to scream in your mind, dear. This is going to hurt.'

I don't know what he has done at that moment. I have no idea which spell has been cast, and I hope I never have to find out for myself. Apparently, it isn't a curse you should use on a hundred-and-thirty year old man, because Voldemort's laughter ceases abruptly. I hear him swear and cast a spell to disengage the wards.

After which, he calls out to the Unspeakable Team outside to accompany him to St. Mungo's straight away. He totally forgets about The Sir Reginald Murdoch in the living room. I guess Murdoch isn't as important to the Dark Lord as he thought. When I am sure they are gone, I leave in a hurry. Never looking back and hoping to never, ever having to see that wretched place again in my life. I know, however, that I will have ample time of peace. The Polyjuice Potion only works for an hour, and thirty-five minutes have passed by already.

So when I get outside, the first thing I do is try to Apparate to Brazil. I know if I can get this Amulet back into the custody of the elves, Voldemort will never get his hands on it, because they will keep it safe, protected, and hidden. But I am shocked when I realise I cannot Apparate. I don't understand why. I try, and I try, and eventually, I try a shorter distance, just out of curiosity. Unfortunately that works, so I know it isn't my own skills that are failing. Someone or something is preventing long range Apparition.

I've heard rumours of its development when I was in Africa, but I thought it to be a fable, like some of the other, overly fantastic, stories I have been hearing about Voldemort. I mean, really, if it is all true, he has to be a God or so. It's one of those Peter and the Wolf stories. After hearing people claim Voldemort is able to do stuff he really can not, then eventually, when someone tells you something amazing that is true, you don't believe that either. And now, I'm in deep shit, because of that. I can't get out of this country. And I won't be able to avoid detection forever. And I need to hide this blasted Amulet in a way that will never ever occur to Lord Voldemort. I am so screwed.

I set up my tent in the Forest of Dean. I've camped out here before with my parents and at one time with Harry and Ron, when the three of us were fugitives and there was still hope of victory for our side. That hope has been long gone now. All I can hope to achieve is to prevent the man from living forever. If he dies, then, eventually, this reign of terror will end. Without him, the Empire he has built will collapse. The people fear him. The fear for his lackeys isn't nearly as profound. Resistance will rise as it has done in the past, and history has shown that things will always change again. Like the Roman Empire, eventually, every empire falls: good or bad. Hopefully, Voldemort's Empire won't last as long as the Roman's did though.

The next morning, I walk to a nearby town to get something to eat. I have changed my appearance again, because, naturally, my green eyes and dark hair is now a known factor to every Auror in the country. I walk through the muggle shops. There used to be a lot more of them, but with all the muggle killings and tortures there are less and less of them around. I briefly wonder about my parents. Voldemort's words make me think of them again. Will they still be alive? Or has some bigot of a wizard or witch done something to them? I don't even know who they are and where I've hidden them, which was a good and safe choice, considering. But it hasn't been easy. I miss them and I remember.

I remember how my father used to read stories to me, so I could fall asleep. Even, after I was perfectly capable of reading them for myself. I remember my mother and me playing board games. I remember their dental practice and how I used to marvel at all the little, tiny instruments they used to help people with. I remember my mother singing and rocking me to sleep when I was frightened. I remember how they took the news when McGonagall came by and told them I was a witch. They were so relaxed and great about it. They have always supported me. They were worried about me, being friends with this famous boy wizard and being Muggle-born, I know that for sure. And I know their worry increased severely after Dumbledore came by our house to set up wards to protect my parents after his resurrection.

I miss talking to them. I miss talking with Harry and Ron. I miss Ginny, Neville, Fred and George, Luna, everybody. Hell, I even miss Draco. I will not mind punching him in the face again, but he has got himself murdered as well. I've heard he was killed, because of something Lucius had done, but I don't know the exact circumstances.

I enter a shop when my eyes fall onto a recent copy of the Daily Prophet. A man is reading it waiting for his turn. In humungous capitals it states: The Death of Hermione Granger, Undesirable no. 1. I stare at the letters in astonishment. I don't get it. The Polyjuice Potion should have worn off a long time ago. Surely, Voldemort and his cronies would have noticed the change. Perhaps the article is placed to put me into a false sense of safety, so I may get reckless and make a mistake. Or someone has screwed up big time at the Prophet. Or they really haven't noticed it, yet. I walk away to a secluded area and check my surroundings vigorously. I'm completely alone. So I try Apparating abroad again. Still nothing, see, they know I am not dead. I'm not falling into that little trap, Riddle.

A week later, I Apparate to Hogsmeade. I found the perfect hiding place for the Amulet and I hid it in that place two days ago. After that, I Obliviated my own memory of the place I went to. So I have no idea where I have hidden the wretched item. And I now have a sly idea. Well, I don't know how good it is, but it is worth a try.

Officially, I am still dead. I don't know why they keep insisting on that. I can't think as to how that is helpful to them. I mean, they won't receive anymore information from anyone about me, if everybody thinks I am dead. And I know the real authorities still deem me around. Maybe I shall try swimming the Atlantic Ocean in order to get away from this country and its misery. Or learn to fly like him. Ughhh… I hate flying. I really, really do. Even with Harry I was scared, and he was a prodigy on that broom. A natural born flyer.

At least I won't have to fly to the castle tonight. They're having a party tonight at Hogwarts. It's to celebrate his victory. Today is the tenth year anniversary of Harry's death. Every freaking Death Eater, Follower, and Ministerial Official is invited. So it will be crowded and they won't expect me to pop up in his headquarters. It will probably be the safest place in the entire United Kingdom for me to hide, but I'm not going there to play hide and seek. I'm going to try to get into Voldemort's personal wing tonight and kill Nagini. I've heard he added an extra tower to the castle, his own personal Hogwarts' chambers. The access to it may be problematic, since it is located in the Headmaster's office, but I have nothing to lose. I'm going to get caught in this country sooner or later, and I rather get caught fighting than hiding. I have no Amulet to protect, so I'm going to do a Harry Potter and hopefully succeed as he so often did.

Right before I go off to Hogwarts, I change my appearance again. I won't bore you with the details, just think female Draco in a dark green velvet evening dress. Entering Hogwarts turns out to be even easier than I've imagined. I grab the arm of the French Ambassador, who is waiting in line before the entrance, and he is delighted to be able to speak his own language with someone. So I chat with him upon entering. The guards probably assume I am his wife or girlfriend, and they do not bother me.

The party turns out to be as crowded as I have expected. I see several familiar faces and my wand hand is itching to hex those faces to Kingdom Come. I chat with those I do not know, and avoid everyone I once had contact with as much as possible. I have taken a couple of sips of the wine, when I start to feel a bit light headed and nauseous. I go to the bathroom and start puking. Narcissa Malfoy, who is standing before one of the mirrors, checking her own appearance, gives me a concerned glance and asks me if I am all right. I tell her I will be fine, but I am not so sure myself. I splatter water on my face and tell myself now is not the time to get sick. I rejoin the party in the Great Hall, hoping Voldemort will not be long, so I can leave for his chambers and destroy his last Horcrux.

Lord Voldemort is the last one to arrive and makes a grand entrance. It takes all of my personal restraint not to roll my eyes to the ceiling, but somehow I manage. He holds a long speech to the crowd. Man, he certainly knows how to do that. Even I feel excited, and I don't even agree with what he says. After he is finished, I feel it will be perfect timing for me to proceed with my plan. I move towards the door, when Narcissa Malfoy comes towards me with Bellatrix Lestrange, of all people.

'Miss Molière! Miss Molière!' Malfoy calls out to me.

I feel it will be too conspicuous to pretend I don't hear the loud screams. I turn and face the two women. Voldemort is standing only a few feet away from me, talking to the Minister.

'Oh, she really looks dreadful,' Lestrange says to Narcissa, while eyeing me up and down.

'Are you pregnant as well?' she asks and pulls out a bottle with orange pills from her handbag.

'Godric, help me, as if the only reason for a woman to be nauseous and vomit can be that,' I think annoyed at the presumption, but I politely say: 'No, I think I have caught a cold.'

Narcissa Malfoy puts a hand on my forehead. It feels incredibly cold, and that is a nice feeling. 'You are burning up. You should lie down.'

I do feel hot and tired, but I don't have time for this. 'I was on my way to the bathroom, if you'll excuse me,' I say.

And I turn to walk away, when the world starts spinning uncontrollably. I almost fall, but Narcissa catches me and helps me in a chair. My head is pounding severely and I watch the world around me in a blur. I find it hard to focus. I close my eyes a couple of times, but it is not helping. Everything remains in daze.

'I can't believe this is happening. Not right now, not when I still have a job to do. Come on Hermione, pull yourself together!' I think, clenching my teeth together and grabbing a hold of my head with both hands.

Suddenly, someone grabs one of my wrists and pulls my arm away from my head. Another even colder hand than Narcissa's is placed on my forehead. It feels really nice to my overly heated face and I close my eyes again, when I hear Lord Voldemort say: 'Go fetch a healer, Bella. Quickly, she's dying.'

And he lifts me up from my chair, into his arms, and carries me away from the Great Hall. My head falls towards his chest, resting on his shoulder, and I try to pull it up, not wanting to have such intimacy with the Dark Lord, but I can no longer move my muscles. I feel I'm slipping in and out of consciousness as I notice the gargoyle leap aside. We're moving up the revolving staircase towards the Headmaster's office. He is taken me to his private chambers. I've wanted to go there to begin with, but I've never envisioned beforehand that I will get there being carried by Voldemort. I sincerely doubt I am going to get a shot at Nagini now.

Eventually, I am laid down upon what I assume to be a bed. He is sitting right next to me, but when I look up at him, I can hardly make him out. My vision has become that blurry. However, one of his hands is resting on my chest, following the movement of my ribcage as I breathe, so I know he is there. We wait there in silence, when there is a knock on the door, and I hear footsteps after Voldemort tells them to enter. A female voice introduces herself as Healer Nightingale.

'You're the Healer?'

The way he says it has a distinct undertone of disbelieve and distrust in it. I don't know why.

'I graduated last year,' the Healer answers.

'Oh, so she must look young,' I deduce.

'Do you have any experience with Transfiguration Syndrome?' Voldemort asks her.

'What?' I think, never having heard of this syndrome.

'I read about it,' the Healer says and I notice her voice sounds uncertain, now. 'It's a rare cause of death amongst Animagi who Transfigure into their animal state too many times.'

'And…?' Voldemort asks, like he is unsatisfied with the response so far.

'It causes the individual to die in his animal form, when his body does not want to return into his human shape. And the human cells fall apart, until there is nothing left,' Healer Nightingale answers.

'Well, that sounds like an awful way to go,' I think, and I begin to see the relevance of his questions.

'You know how to heal the condition?' Voldemort asks demandingly.

'Yes, but she's not in an animal form. Surely…'

But I hear Voldemort interrupt the healer.

'There is no mistaken Transfiguration Syndrome, Healer Nightingale. I've seen these very symptoms on myself fifty years ago. This woman's appearance is not how she was born. Human to human transfiguration can cause the Syndrome to occur just as badly as with human to animal transfiguration. The treatment, fortunately, is the same as with Animagal Transfiguration Syndrome. So I suggest you begin to heal her, because I will be very displeased with you if Miss Hermione Jean Granger, here, dies.'

He strokes my hair before he gets up and leaves, taking my wand with him. I definitely need some shampoo now.
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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory