Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Shared Flame	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 58981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money writing this.

Chapter List
- 39
- 40
- 41
As always, I’d like to thank Nerys and Shan84 for betaing! And I also want to thank everyone for reading and reviewing.

Anon review replies can be found (soon!) on: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/20494-shared-flame-by-lady-miya/

Chapter 39
“I won’t let you cause a massacre,” Hermione stated.
It was almost three in the morning, and they had been planning their break-in of Gringotts ever since they made it out of the bathtub. Hermione felt much more relaxed and focused after she had tortured Voldemort. She regretted doing it though. Not only because she didn’t truly want to hurt the man she loved, but also because of the consequences. He wouldn’t let her forget this.
“Oh really, and how do you plan to stop me?” Voldemort asked, his tone bored as he flicked through the pages of a thick volume. “And please, don’t try the ‘I won’t have sex with you’ card. It never worked before, and it won’t work now. You crave sex just as much as I do.”
Hermione leaned back in her armchair. She had used the whole night to think of a different solution, and now it was time to try it. “Oh, there are a lot of other ways I can make your life miserable. You told Tamsin you don’t want to press charges against the Ministry for taking us into custody. I assume you have a reason for that. Maybe you want to blackmail someone, or maybe you just want people to forget about the humiliation of getting arrested. Either way, I can still press charges. I have my own money, and I can afford an attorney who can keep this up for a very long time. Then, I think I could even consider going to the Daily Prophet and give an exclusive … you get the picture.”
Voldemort seemed calm, but Hermione knew him well and she was certainly getting to him. He lowered his head just slightly and looked at her in a way that he always did when he was annoyed with her. He clearly did not want her to do that.
“How time-consuming. I thought you wanted us to find Althea,” Voldemort said after a moment of silence.
She rolled her eyes. “Obviously I’m going to wait until after we’ve got Althea back. I just wanted to let you know now, before you did something I will have to punish you for.”
Voldemort leaned back in his own armchair. “So we will become stuck in a circle of punishments? Create more and more vicious ways on how to make the other one miserable?” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Actually, that does sound like fun.”
Hermione slammed her fists into the table in anger, standing up. “Dammit, Voldemort! Can’t you just be satisfied with an apology? Must you take everything so fucking personally?”
Voldemort arched his eyebrows and stared at her. “You tortured me until I could no longer scream, and I’m quite sure my muscles will continue to cramp for days, so yes, I am taking it very personally. And you haven’t apologised.”
Hermione blushed. Okay, so she could understand his anger. “I didn’t?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Oh. Well, I am. Sorry, I mean. I’m very sorry.”
“Oh, joy, my aching body is turning all fluffy inside. Thank you, now I feel much better,” he said dryly, voice dripping of sarcasm.
Hermione sighed and looked down. Maybe punishment wasn’t the right way to go. Her mind was too set on violence at the moment. But that wasn’t the way she usually dealt with him, was it? No, bribing was easier. What did Voldemort want, besides killing and torturing innocent people?
“Do you think we can use this plan to break into Gringotts tomorrow night?” she asked, staring down at the table.
“Yes, I believe so.”
“And you’re certain Merlin’s vault is down there?”
Voldemort sighed. “Yes, again, I’m certain. It’s the reason Gringotts was built: to protect Merlin’s tomb.”
Hermione took a deep breath and looked up again. “Good.”
She walked around the table and stepped in between his legs. Voldemort looked up at her, his expression guarded. She slowly reached for his face and stroked his cheek with her fingers. He hadn’t shaved in almost two days, and she could feel the stubble. Uneven and hard, just like him.
“I am sorry,” she said in a low voice. “It wasn’t just the situation with Althea. It’s hard … loving you. Sometimes I want to hurt you for not loving me back.”
Voldemort closed his eyes and let out a tired sigh. She continued to stroke his face, tracing his nose, eyebrows, and moving down to his lips. There, she stopped, staring at him. He was still so beautiful. He hadn’t aged a lot during the past ten years. Just some more lines in his face, if you looked closely. He didn’t like it, of course. Ageing led to death.
“If you forgo the massacre, I will help you find a way to reach immortality.”
He opened his eyes again, looking up at her. “What makes you think I need help?”
Hermione snorted and let her hand drop away. “Your last plan was thwarted by three teenagers; I think you need all the help you can get.”
He scowled at her.
“Besides, it’s possible there’s something useful in Merlin’s vault,” Hermione continued. “But since we don’t have unlimited time to go through it, it’ll be helpful if we both look for a way to achieve immortality as well as what information there is about fairies.”
His scowl lessened. “Anyone else would have died doing what you did to me, kitten. Merely looking for information hardly makes up for that.”
“Well, I’m not saying I’ll stop looking after that. You know I’m good at researching, Voldemort. Two pairs of eyes catch more than one.”
He regarded her for a short moment. “It’s a start. We’ll see how it goes tomorrow, but you have a lot to make up for.”
She leaned down and kissed him softly. “I know.”
Taking his hand, she led him out of the library and into the bedroom. Usually, the sex before bed was the longest and sweetest of the day, but on this particular night, they were too tired for anything spectacular. He did ride her hard, though, most likely out of anger, but he came quickly and rolled away, falling asleep within a minute. Hermione was left feeling unsatisfied.
That didn’t happen often at all. Voldemort was evil and bad in many ways, but not when it came to sex. It could possibly be the bond talking; Hermione had nothing else to compare it with. She had heard other women talking about it though, and they made it sound as if an unselfish lover was hard to come by. Many men seemed to feel good if they made their lover come once a week, but they would be cranky as hell if they didn’t get to come during sex at all. Hermione found that unfair, and sexist. And lazy. At least when Voldemort made sure she didn’t come, she knew that it was because he was punishing her. Like now.
Hermione sighed and turned to lie on her back. The problem was that she had trouble sleeping without an orgasm before bed. They made her so calm and relaxed. Now she was just hot and bothered.
Good thing she still had vibrators.

xxx

“Dad, why are you growing a beard?” Alexandra asked, peeking out from her room, into the corridor. “And why is it the wrong colour?”
“Go back to bed, Alex,” Voldemort replied, glancing at his clock again. Hermione should have been home by now. They had to leave in five minutes for their plan to work.
“Are you going to get Althea now?” Alexandra asked, opening the door wider.
“Not yet. We are going to get some things that will help us find her,” Voldemort explained, starting to get impatient, both with his wife and daughter.
“Do you need a beard for that?”
“Yes.” He paused. How did she know who he was? He didn’t look like himself.
“Why?”
Voldemort sighed and kneeled down next to his daughter. “Because your mother and I can’t be recognised. Thus, the white beard. How did you recognise me?”
“I heard your walk,” she said, as if it were obvious. “Your eyes are wrong, too.”
“I would hope so. But don’t worry, they will be back to the right way tomorrow when you wake up. Now, go back to bed. Ken is right down the hall if you need anything.” He stroked his daughter’s hair and then nudged her inside again, closing the door.
In the same moment, Hermione Apparated into the room. He spun around, happy to see that she was already in disguise.
“Where have you been?” he asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
“Do you know how hard dragon candy is to come by?” Hermione replied, brushing her long white hair over her shoulder. Her new figure was small, round and old, but he could still see his Hermione in her eyes. However, he doubted anyone else would. It was a good glamour.
“Yes, I do. Did you run into any problems?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“That’s my girl,” he purred. He was quite excited about breaking into Gringotts. The last time he did it, he had been using Quirrell’s body. He looked forward on doing it in his own, and with Hermione by his side as an extra wand.
“Are we ready then?” she asked. She looked determined, but he could sense her nervousness. Good thing she could always keep a cool head.
“Indeed.” He pressed her close to him and Apparated them to an alley behind Gringotts.
“Put up the wards,” he ordered her once they regained their footing. This was the risky part of their break-in. He would make his own tunnel down to the Gringotts tunnels. However, it was impossible to dig a normal tunnel a mile down. Not only would there be an awful lot of dirt to remove, but ancient wards prevented it.
Thus, Voldemort had invented his own way of doing it. He made the atoms in the ground vibrate so that he and Hermione could sink down through the ground. The wards were necessary since they would have to leave it open for their retreat; they couldn’t risk anyone stumbling over the tunnel while they were inside Gringotts.
Hermione was therefore making very subtle repellent wards. If someone came close to the alley, they would immediately notice a foul smell and want to get away from it as soon as possible. There wasn’t really anything in the alley to begin with, so hopefully, no one would have a great urge to enter it.
Voldemort drew a circle with a homemade paste. As he added the four runes needed to specify the length of the tunnel, Hermione came back to him.
“All set,” she said.
“Good. Stay back,” he ordered and rose from the ground. “Terra Commoveo.”
The brick ground turned blurred inside the circle. They waited a few seconds for the tunnel to become stable. He could feel how his magic worked through the ground. It was a skill very few wizards possessed.
“So, now we just … step through?” Hermione asked. He could hear that she was nervous. Once they reached the end of the tunnel, there would be some flying required, and she didn’t like flying.
“Yes. Just hold on to me and close your eyes.” Despite her fear, he knew she would be able to go through with it. His little kitten was nothing if not brave. Not that he minded seeing her scared. It gave him great amusement as well as a sense of power. He was never scared, of course. He was stronger than her.
She stiffly put her arms around his waist and burrowed her head into his chest. Voldemort smiled. “Here we go.”
With help of his magic, they jumped into the circle, immediately starting to sink downwards at great speed. Hermione let out a whimper and hugged him tighter. The sensation was like being stuck in a long, very tight jumper. It was warm and uncomfortable, but they couldn’t really move their arms and legs. Instead, they relied on gravity and magic to pull them downwards.
He estimated the fall to take three minutes and was ready once their tunnel let go of them. Hermione let out a muffled shriek against his chest when they were suddenly free and falling through air. Voldemort, however, had everything under control. Flying without any other aid except your magic was another very difficult thing to do. It was even more difficult with someone clinging to you. It took a great deal of power and concentration. Thankfully, Voldemort had both.
Wrap your legs around me, he told her through their mental link. They were flying downwards very fast, and he wasn’t sure she would have heard him if he had spoken out loud.
OhMerlinohMerlinohMerlin, she muttered back, but she did manage to cling on to him with her legs as well as her arms.
Perhaps we should try having sex while flying some other time, Voldemort mused. They still had quite a way to fly, and he didn’t want to listen to her scared manta the entire time.
Oh, funny, Hermione sounded a bit hysterical. If you try that with me, I’ll bite your cock off. By Merlin, you’ll feel pain you have never felt before.
What have I told you about giving threats you won’t go through with? You love my cock too much to ever hurt it, he snickered. Besides, I think you’d like it. I think the fear and adrenaline is making you wet right now.
If I’m wet, it’s because I’ve peed myself, she replied, but she did sound slightly less afraid.
He forced back a laugh. It was hard to stay angry at her when she was so amusing. Then again, he didn’t have to stay angry to take out his revenge on her. Whenever that would be. He still didn’t know what he should do. Perhaps he would simply let her make up for it herself, without him actively punishing her?
Nah, it was too much fun to punish her. Especially when she knew she deserved it. But he would let her crawl in the dust for a few more days. She could be very creative in the ways she could please him. Especially in, but not limited to, the bedroom.
Stop thinking about sex. Hermione’s voice suddenly broke through into his mind. We have work to do.
I can think about sex and work at the same time, Voldemort promised her.
Fine, do what you want. You always do. How much longer is it?
I’m not sure. It’s not like I make a habit of breaking into Gringotts to visit Merlin’s tomb on a regular basis.
Great. What if there is some sort of defence we haven’t taken into consideration? she asked, sounding worried.
Then we’ll have to improvise, he said. We are reaching the dragons. Have the candy ready.
How am I supposed to do that? I’m clinging on to you! she retorted.
He wrapped both his arms tightly around her. Do you really think I would let you fall? Now do as you are told.
Muttering to herself, she let go with her right hand and started to fumble for the candy. Although, “candy” might not be a good word for it. It was more like a small bomb. Dragons were drawn to it because of the smell, but once a dragon touched it, the candy exploded, stunning everything around it. It wasn’t harmful for the dragon (Hermione had been very clear that she didn’t want to hurt anyone or anything), it just stunned them for a few hours.
There they are, Voldemort told her. Drop it … now!
With perfect precision, Hermione dropped the candy. Voldemort then suspended them in the air. There were three dragons beneath them, and they had to fly through the tunnel behind them to reach the deepest part of Gringotts. The dragons were ancient and naturally suspicious. The big, blue one sniffed the air with its tongue, just like a serpent. Voldemort remained as still as possible. If the dragon smelled them before the candy, they would no doubt start breathing fire, which in turn sounded the alarm.
Thankfully, the candy was too alluring for them to stay away. The green dragon moved towards it, its huge chain rattling as it moved. Voldemort put up a shield around them, not wanting to be caught in the stunning charm.
The explosion was soundless but created a blinding blue light. Even though he had shielded his eyes, Voldemort had to blink a few times before he was able to see again. Once he was certain all the dragons were unmoving, he started to fly downwards. They now had about half an hour before someone noticed someone else had used magic on the dragons. Hopefully, it would take another half an hour before they realised where the intruders were. By that time, they should be done and on their way back home.
They reached the end of the tunnel that came out into a great cave. It should have been completely dark down there, but magic had been so infused in the stone that there was a blue shimmer illuminating the entire cave.
You’ll want to see this, Voldemort told Hermione and made her turn around in the air.
Oh dear Merlin, he heard her whisper in her mind.
He had heard about the cave but never seen it. It was supposedly created by Merlin himself, as his final resting place. Water was glimmering at the bottom of the cave, its waves echoing across the walls. It was a majestic sight. This beauty was for someone very important.
He continued to fly over the dark water. At the other end of the cave, there was a great arch carved into the cave wall. Voldemort flew towards it. The closer they came, the more details he could see. Runes infused with magic outlined it, and the power of the magic took Voldemort’s breath away. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Powerful, intimidating, dangerous. Oh, he could read those runes. It was a warning, a warning to anyone planning on intruding the tomb behind it.
They landed on the platform. Hermione took a few stabilising steps away from him. “I hate flying.”
He ignored her. The magic sang inside his head, a perfect tone, which advised him that the wards were intact. How to break through? He had expected wards, but not like this. It would take tremendous power to take it down. Or would it?
In the middle of the arch, a tablet of stone hung. Voldemort walked up to it. “Why?”
“What?” Hermione asked, coming up to him. “Oh, the rune. What does it mean, ‘why’?”
“‘Why’ is always an excellent question,” Voldemort said slowly, his mind working furiously. “It’s a thing Slytherins learn to ask from the start. ‘Why should I do this?’, ‘Why should I help you?’, ‘Why do you want to be friends with me?’. Merlin was in Slytherin. He would have known this.”
Hermione snorted. “What is it with Slytherins and trust issues? Why not?”
“It’s healthier to be suspicious,” Voldemort said. “You live longer.”
“Says Mr Paranoid,” Hermione muttered. “But if you are so all-knowing, how do we get inside?”
“Well, brute force will probably work, but we could try by answering the question first,” Voldemort said, stepping back. “Place your hand on the tablet and tell it why we are here.”
Hermione stared at him in disbelief. “Are you joking with me?”
“Not at all. Do it now. If you do recall, we don’t have all the time in the world. Just let the tablet know how much you want to find Althea.”
“It’s a tablet!”
“It’s a magical tablet. Stop wasting time. If it doesn’t work, we will try something else. We are doing this for Althea.”
Voldemort gave her a pointed stare, and she sighed and walked up to the door. He wasn’t sure it would work, but if it did, it was better if there were someone with clear intent that touched it. He didn’t know if there were any type of magical scanning about to be done, but he knew he didn’t want to be scanned.
Hermione placed her hand on the tablet. “I want to find knowledge that will help me rescue my daughter from fairies.”
The arch groaned. Hermione looked startled. “I can’t move my han—” Then she was sucked into the archway.
Voldemort rushed forward. “Hermione! Hermione! Can you hear me?”
He banged the stone arch at the place where she had disappeared, but it remained as solid as it looked. He took a hold of his wand, ready to blast his ways in. However, before he had even managed to utter a spell, the arch groaned again. It was like an invisible hand had pushed him. Voldemort flew backwards, off the cliff they had been standing on and into the ice-cold water. His first instinct was to use his wand to get out of there. Only then did he realise that his wand wasn’t in his hand. He must have dropped it.
He searched the water around him, but it was no use. The water was too dark for him to see anything. After a couple of dives down, he gave up. There was no way to find his wand this way, and his wandless Summoning Charm didn’t work either. Blasted Merlin. He decided to use his energy to swim back to the cliff instead. It wasn’t that far away.
When he finally focused on getting back ashore, he noticed that his limbs were much longer than before. The water had removed his glamour. It must be the same kind of water as in the waterfall you drove through when using the carts. The water that removed all enchantments. That meant he wouldn’t be able to use magic while in contact with the water. Oh, that was just great.
Cursing, he swam towards the cliff as quickly as he could. It still took longer than he had wished. His stamina was of a completely different sort, and his legs and arms were trembling by the time he reached the cliff. Then came the hard part, climbing up. He was wet and slippery, and his fingers were numb from the cold water. But he wouldn’t be Lord Voldemort if he let a stupid cliff wall beat him.
Clenching his teeth together, he started to make his way up the wall. He had lost track of time when he finally heaved himself up on the cliff. For a moment, he allowed himself to just lie there and catch his breath. Hermione hadn’t come out yet. Was that a good or a bad sign? He had no idea if there were any traps in there. She could be dead, for all that he knew.
No, that wasn’t true. He was sure he would know if she were dead. They shared a unique bond. He would know if something horrible happened to her. But she could still be trapped. What if she didn’t make it out?
He tried summoning his wand again, but nothing happened. In fact, he couldn’t use his magic at all. To his great horror, he realised that the water was still stopping him from using his magic! What should he do? It would take hours to dry up, even if he removed all his clothes. It was too cold here.
He needed a wand. If Hermione didn’t come out, then someone would come down to investigate. He could steal that person’s wand if he managed to lure that person to the ground. He was sure that if he just got a hold of a dry wand, he would be able to use it to dry himself and then use his magic as he was used to.
But what if the one coming down to investigate was a goblin?
He could reason with a goblin. He hadn’t stolen anything, so they would listen at least. There were lots of things the goblins wanted that he could help them with.
Ignoring his wet, cold clothes, he rose, looking at the door again. This would all be for nothing if Hermione didn’t find anything useful. Oh, how he loathed having to rely on someone else. But if he had to, then Hermione was the one he would choose. At least she knew to look for the most important things.

xxx

The moment Hermione got sucked through the archway, she realised that Voldemort wouldn’t be coming with her. The tablet was clearly performing some sort of Legilimency, and he would not want to undergo that. She knew he had other reasons to why he would want to visit this place. Something told her greed wasn’t the way to get in, and she was sure her husband’s ulterior motives were very selfish.
Lighting her wand, she discovered that she was inside a cave with crystal walls. The light from her wand was reflected in the crystals and made it as bright as if it was broad daylight.
Her eyes were drawn to the huge coffin in the middle of the cave. It was made of something she recognised as black hematite. Behind it hung a full-size painting of who she presumed was Merlin himself. The style of the painting seemed to be from the Middle Ages before they had developed the technique of creating depth within the picture. It made the wizard appear very flat and cartoon-like.
“Here lies the wizard Merlin,” she read out loud from the silver runes engraved on top of the coffin. “He will be remembered.”
Well, that was true at least. She turned away from the coffin and started to scan the walls. She didn’t have a lot of time, so she first sought out the many scrolls of parchment. From the inside of her robe, she withdrew a bag which she had stuffed with parchment. It was bigger on the inside, and she hoped she had put enough paper and parchment in there for everything she wanted to copy.
There wasn’t time to translate Merlin’s scrolls properly, so she merely tried to see what it was about and copied the ones she thought could be useful. The spell was simple and fast, working like a fax machine but even quicker than that. She just had to unroll the parchment, drag her wand over the text and then make a simple wand movement over a blank scroll of parchment.
In thirty minutes time, she managed to copy almost fifty scrolls. She had seen the rune for fairy on some of them. However, some had just looked very interesting in general, and she had copied it for the fun of it. It wasn’t like she would get another opportunity like this again. All the copies were stuffed back into her bag.
Once she were done with the scrolls, she went for the books. There weren’t many, but they were thick, so she made replicas of all of them. It was much harder work, so she didn’t have time to see what they contained, and she would rather take too much than too little. After fifteen minutes, she had replicas of the ten books inside her bag.
Turning back towards the exit, her eyes fell on the shelves of objects. She hesitated. Who knew if Merlin had used any of them to defeat the fairies? What if they needed one of the objects to vanquish them?
Stealing didn’t feel right, but …
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
She spun around, her wand ready. “Who’s there?”
“Just me. Well, and you, of course. Strange. It’s been a long time since I last had a visitor.”
It was the full-size painting on the wall. Hermione stared, bemused. It wasn’t like the moving paintings in Hogwarts.
“Don’t fret, dear. I’m just a memory in a painting,” the face of Merlin said in a cheerful tone. She couldn’t see the expression on the face since only the mouth moved in an awkward way, but the voice came out as clear and alive as if he had been in the room with her. Both his voice and bright-blue eyes reminded her a little of Dumbledore. Just as her old headmaster, Merlin also had a long, white beard.
“Yes, I realise that. I just hadn’t realised moving paintings were around during your era. I thought the art of it wasn’t invented until the Fourteenth Century,” Hermione said, getting over the surprise of seeing him move and becoming excited instead.
“Oh, so it took that long for my invention to reach common knowledge? Perhaps I should have told more people about it …” he trailed off, looking thoughtful.
“Are you Merlin?” Hermione just had to ask.
“Indeed I am. And who may you be?”
“Hermione Granger. It’s an honour to meet you. Thank you for letting me come in and copy your scrolls and books.” She didn’t see the point in lying to him. The arch had used some sort of Legilimency before letting her through, so something must’ve approved of her. Hopefully, the painting would as well and could give her even more information.
“Your daughter has been kidnapped by fairies; how could I keep you out? Although, I don’t like that husband of yours.”
“Few do,” Hermione said with a smile. “Do you think you could help me, though? How did you defeat the fairies? And why?”
“Ah, I’m afraid it is a tale too long for today. I may not disapprove of your visit, but there are others out there that do. You will get a much more satisfying answer out of the texts you have copied,” Merlin said, his voice kind.
“So you think I have everything I need to get my daughter back? I wasn’t sure if I needed some sort of object.”
Merlin’s smile looked awkward in the painting. “You managed to copy all my knowledge of the fairies, at least. If it’s enough to bring back your daughter, I cannot say. I have been dead for quite some time, and I don’t know how the fairies have evolved. If they have managed to kidnap a child at all, they must have regained some power in our world.”
“They have used my daughter’s magic,” Hermione said. For some reason, she was certain that Merlin’s painting was trying to help her. There was something trustworthy about the voice.
“Have they indeed? That’s worrying. Well, I do hope my knowledge will help you. But don’t steal my things. If you do, I’ll have to throw you out, as I did with your husband.”
“You did what?” she asked, not sure if she should be amused or worried.
“He was about to force his way inside. I didn’t very much like that. You can go out now and see for yourself.”
“Is that it?” Hermione asked, surprised over how smoothly it had all gone.
“I’ve been dead too long to care about what secrets I may have had over a millennia ago. If you have use for it, then, by all means, read it. I didn’t have any children of my own, but I know what it’s like to worry about them. However, I don’t approve of thieving. Those objects are infused with my magic, and they keep me company here,” Merlin explained in a conversational tone.
“So I don’t need them to destroy the fairies?”
“Oh yes, you will. But you are a clever girl, Hermione; you’ll be able to create your own versions of them,” he said happily.
With a last glance at the magical objects, she sighed and nodded. “Well, I guess I should be leaving, then.”
“Yes, I think you should. I fear your visit has been noticed. Your husband needs you,” Merlin said.
Hermione cursed and sealed the bag, wrapping it around her neck and putting it inside her clothes, next to her body. She didn’t want to lose that now.
“How do I get out?” Hermione asked, hurrying to the wall through which she had got in.
“You just walk,” Merlin replied. “Thank you for the visit.”
“No, thank you for all your help!” she called and walked through the wall.
It was just like walking to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. However, stepping into the other side was nothing like King’s Cross. Far on the other side of the cave, she could see wizards on brooms flying in.
Surprisingly, Voldemort wasn’t attacking yet. He just stood there, eyeing them as they got closer.
“What are you doing?” she called as she ran up to him. That was when she realised he looked like himself, not wearing the glamour as they came here with. And he was dripping wet.
He snatched her wand from her hand. In just one second, he was dry and wearing his glamour. Another second had him shooting down one of the wizards.
“Hey, give that back!” Hermione growled, trying to get her wand back.
“Not now,” Voldemort growled back, pushing her behind him.
There were four other wizards left. One of them seemed to be shouting something, but the voice echoed around the wall, and Hermione had a hard time hearing the words. Not that she cared. They had already started to throw disarming spells at them.
“What happened to your wand?” she asked, not having any choice but to stand behind him, unless she wanted to get hit by the spells.
“Water. Dropped it,” he answered shortly in between blocking and firing spells of his own.
“You are a wizard! Summon it!”
Even though he kept his eyes on the approaching wizards, she knew his scowl was meant for her. “I was just about to. Take it,” he ordered as the wand flew up from the water.
“Shouldn’t we try running?” she asked as she joined him in the fighting. His wand worked almost as well for her as her own did.
“We need to get past them,” he pointed out and effectively shot down another wizard from his broom. “This won’t take long.”
As the wizard dropped into the water, the three remaining wizards reached them. Hermione didn’t recognise any of them as Aurors. They had to be Gringotts own security. That was both good and bad news. The good news was that they weren’t as disciplined or organised as Aurors. The bad news was that they were the “attack first, ask questions later” kind of wizards. They were also known for being ruthless in their attacks.
Indeed, it didn’t take long until the three wizards had started to use more dangerous spells than disarming and stunning spells. Of course, it could be because Voldemort had started with much darker spells. It annoyed her. He was a great duellist, and if he got the opportunity to strike, he could have used a disarming spell. Then again, he had been the Dark Lord, taking joy in hurting others came with the title. She could bribe him when they were alone, but not in the moment of battle.
To smooth things over, she made attempts to just knock the wizards off their brooms. Once they were in the water, she and Voldemort could fly away. However, these wizards were much more skilled than she had thought. They also had the advantage of brooms. They could fly up and down, left and right to get away from an attack. Hermione and Voldemort were on the ground, with little room for moving.
Hermione let out a cry of pain when a Slicing Curse cut through her left shoulder. She could feel blood starting to run down her arm, but she didn’t have time to look. Two of the wizards had focused their attack on her, while the third put up a defence shield to stop Voldemort’s curses. It seemed she had clearly underestimated their ability to work as a team.
However, hurting her didn’t seem to be the best way to stop Lord Voldemort. A huge pillar of Fiendfyre appeared, going straight for the wizard who had cast the Slicing Curse. The one next to him got caught in the fire as well. Once they were dead and the fire had disappeared, Voldemort glanced at Hermione. Hermione scowled at him, both showing that she was okay and that she was displeased with his actions. He smirked and turned back to take down the last wizard.
Hermione saw the spell just before Voldemort did. She threw up a shield, but was too slow. Voldemort didn’t have a chance. For all his experience and power, he had done the one thing that you should never do. He had looked away from his opponent.
The spell hit him straight in the chest. He screamed. Hermione screamed as well, but for a different reason. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be hurt. He was Lord Voldemort. The man she loved. Her husband. No, she wouldn’t allow it. She wouldn’t allow more people picking on her family. No. One. Hurt. Her. Family.
“Avada Kedavra!” she cried.
The last wizard had been too gleeful with his victory that he didn’t see it coming. The flash of green hit him straight on, and he fell off his broom, stone-dead.
She didn’t wait to watch his corpse hit the water. She rushed to Voldemort’s side. He was still conscious, but it was hard for him to breathe. He grabbed her arm once she fell down on her knees next to him.
“Think!” he hissed through clenched teeth.
She could see that he was in a lot of pain. A fast diagnostic showed that the curse was burning his flesh away, fast.
“What curse is it? How do I stop it?” she asked. Panic wanted to overthrow her, but she wouldn’t let it. She had to heal him and get them out of here. Then she could panic.
He didn’t talk; instead, he used their mind connection to show her what the counter spell was. Alas, it didn’t remove the damage, just stopped it from spreading. They would need a potion for that, and he had it at home.
“I have to fly us out of here,” she realised once she administered the counter spell.
“Yes,” he hissed. Even though the spell had stopped, the burnt flesh had to hurt like hell.
She would have to put him in stasis so it wouldn’t get worse. Even though he wouldn’t die in the next few minutes, she didn’t know if the curse had reached his inner organs already. And the pain would turn even severer when they were moving.
“Show me how to fly,” she said and went into his mind again.
Once he had provided the knowledge, she put him into stasis. Voldemort’s eyes flashed in alarm when he realised what she was doing. She knew he would be angry when he woke up. He hated being made powerless. But it was either this, or the pain would make him pass out once they started to move.
His body became heavy, and she managed to catch his head before it hit the ground. Taking back her own wand and putting his in the safety of her bag, she made him float up and hung him against her back, using a sticking charm to keep him there. If she met any more resistance, she wanted her view clear, and the ability to move her arms.
With a deep breath, she pushed away, starting to fly. If this had been during normal circumstances, she would never have been able to do it. The magic worked on intent, and there was a great part of her that wanted to stay on the ground. However, these were not normal circumstances. Voldemort’s life depended on her. Fear would have to wait together with panic.
Once she felt she got the flying under control, she started to move faster. She didn’t look down; she kept her eyes on where she was going. It was all a blur from there. When she later told Voldemort about what had happened, she couldn’t remember much. Some goblins spotted her, but she flew too fast for them to catch her. The hole they had made was still open, and the three minutes up were a daze.
She destroyed the magical circle with a swish of her wand, and then, she Apparated them back home. It was well after midnight. Hermione moved on autopilot, not allowing herself to stop and feel. All she thought about was what she had to do next: Remove his clothes, examine the damage, get the potions that would heal the internal damage, administrate it, put on the paste that would heal the wound, and then, finally wake him up and see if it had worked.
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