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Shared Flame	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 59086 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money writing this.

Chapter List
- 42
- 43
- 44
Hello my faithful readers! Sorry for the delay, but here is the next chapter! I want to thank everyone for reading and reviewing, and thank Shan84 for betaing, and also thank Nerys for the suggestions!

Review replies can be found here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/20494-shared-flame-by-lady-miya/

WARNING! Violence

Chapter 42
Hermione laid Althea down on the couch in the basement and pulled a blanket over her. She ran a quick diagnostic spell, just to make sure the fairies weren’t hurting her. The answer was the same as earlier. Althea was asleep, but otherwise unhurt.
“Mum, what are you going to do?” Alexandra asked, sitting down at Althea’s feet.
“We are going to take care of the evil fairies. Your father will have to change the way he looks to, er, scare the fairies, but you don’t have to worry, he is still your father,” Hermione reassured her, before taking in the basement again, to see if there was anything else they would need if they were trapped down here.
Most of the objects were part of some project Voldemort was working on, or things too dangerous to have around the children. There was, however, a refrigerator standing next to the bench. Opening it, Hermione discovered some content she’d rather not know any more about, but also water, ice cream, chocolate, and alcohol. Well, it would keep Alexandra happy if she got hungry during the ordeal. She took out a bar of chocolate and the water and went back to Alexandra.
“This will be quite hard, sweetie, and you’ll have to keep quiet. If you get hungry, eat this,” she handed her the chocolate bar and placed the water container on the side table next to the couch.
“But it isn’t Saturday,” Alexandra commented, frowning.
“Sometimes you can break the rules, love,” Hermione replied, turning to the stairwell when she heard someone come down.
A second later, she recognised Voldemort and she lowered her wand. He was carrying her beaded bag. “Unpack it,” he ordered, throwing it to her. “Start the ritual. We will be better off if we manage to take away their claim on Althea.”
Hermione sat down on the floor and emptied the contents of her bottomless bag. Voldemort seemed to have gathered everything they needed in it. She quickly sorted the things they would use right away from the things they could need later. Pushing the ‘later’ pile away, she opened Voldemort’s notebook. When Alexandra went missing, she and Voldemort had started the calculation for the ritual that would hopefully break his agreement with the fairies. They had just finished it when Alexandra returned. Now came the hard part: doing it.
With magical crayons, she started to draw the runic symbols they had calculated they would need. Around her, she could still feel the house shake, but it wasn’t as noticeable downstairs as it had been upstairs. She wondered if they were in another dimension or just out of phase, but quickly banished those thoughts from her mind. If that were the case, they could fix it later. Right now, they had to save their daughter. Without her, the fairies would hopefully not be able to uphold whatever magic they had placed on the house.
A few minutes later, Voldemort and Mizuro came down again, and Voldemort locked the door behind him. He spoke some magical command she didn’t recognise and the tremors were almost completely muffled.
“What wards do you have around here?” she asked, surprised by how effective they seemed to be.
“Considerably darker ones than those around the house,” Voldemort answered. “I haven’t had them activated, though. Wouldn’t want the Auror’s sniffing those out.”
“Right,” Hermione said, adding the last rune to her circle on the floor. “Done.”
Voldemort came over and inspected it. “Excellent. Ken, give me the Wolfsbane.”
“I thought we had an agreement that you would tell me when you discovered new uses of magical herbs,” Ken said, but withdrew a sprig of Wolfsbane from his bag.
“I’m a little busy saving our lives here,” Voldemort growled and started to place twigs of Wolfsbane around the circle.
Hermione jumped out of it, careful not to smudge any of the lines she had drawn. She was so pumped up on adrenaline that she didn’t care about whatever agreement Ken and Voldemort had. If they got out of this alive, she could ask.
“Hermione?” Voldemort called once he was done, holding out his hand for her.
Hermione grabbed it, knowing he was after a mental conversation. She wondered if it was so that they wouldn’t scare Alexandra, or if Voldemort didn’t trust Ken.
I don’t know how this ritual will affect me right away. You will have to be ready for anything. It helps that we have Althea here; we will be able to see if they stop using her power, he said quickly.
What if they don’t?
Then we will improvise.
He let go of her hand and then walked over to a closet standing near the entrance. It was filled with all sorts of different weapons. He removed a short ceremonial knife.
“Alex, don’t do this yourself,” he told her over his shoulder before cutting himself in the palm.
His words made Hermione realise that this would no doubt become even scarier soon. She didn’t want Alexandra to be unconscious, though. If they had to run, it would be better if they didn’t have to carry both girls. Besides, it didn’t feel right to just knock children out just for the convenience of it.
“Alex, why don’t you and Ken play something,” she said, waving at Ken to help Alex.
She thought she heard him mutter “I don’t get paid enough for this,” but she didn’t care about it. Voldemort needed her if they were to get out of here alive.
Just before Voldemort was about to step into the circle, Hermione realised something and grabbed a fist full of hair. With a slash of her wand, she left a bald spot on the back of his head.
“Ouch! What did you do that for?” Voldemort groaned.
“If we need to make Polyjuice later,” Hermione said and summoned an empty jar from the bench, putting them there.
“A bit of warning wouldn’t have hurt, you know,” Voldemort muttered. “But while you are at it, take all of it.”
With three fast cuts with his wand, he had removed most of his head. Hermione gathered every single stray hair into the jar, a bit surprised that he had wanted her to take all of it. Surely he didn’t expect to have his old body for that long?
Voldemort stepped into the circle and opened his hand. He dripped blood on one the rune which would activate the transformation and break his agreement with the fairies.
The house began shaking even more. Voldemort looked up, frowning. “They seem to be working faster than I thought. Ken, defend my daughters if they get in.”
Ken gave Voldemort a nod over his shoulder. He was sitting in front of Alexandra, blocking her view. It looked as if they were playing cards. Next to them, Althea was still glowing softly in the dim light.
Voldemort began casting. They had done the calculations thoroughly, with help from Merlin’s own research. In one of his books, he had gone through how he had managed to help parents whose children had been stolen by fairies. None of them had fairy magic in them, but they had all managed to get their children back by letting go of whatever their agreement with the fairies had been. It made the fairies lose their magical claim of the children.
What was tricky in their case was that Althea had fairy magic inside her already, and had so since birth. With the other cases, history had not been rewritten by the act, but whatever the people had received from the fairies had ceased to be. Voldemort was certain, though, that he could recreate the looks the fairies had given him at a later date.
The runes on the floor began to glow. Hermione took a few steps back, so she wouldn’t get in the way. Voldemort sank down to his knees as the runes on the floor turned to dust and started to swirl around him, faster and faster. She could no longer see him behind the small dust cloud, but neither was he screaming in pain, so she took that as a good sign.
The dust fell to the ground again, and Hermione held her breath. She had forgotten how fearsome Lord Voldemort had been before. The shaved head was now completely bald and pale. His face was flat, with just slits for nostrils. A long fingered hand came up to his face and his almost lipless mouth turned into a grimace when he found no nose.
“I forgot,” he mumbled, and his voice was much higher than before. It made Hermione shudder.
He looked up at her, frowning as he stepped out of the circle and walked up to her. Hermione had to force herself not to cringe as his hand came up to her face, stroking it. It surprised her when she realised that she still felt the same pleasure at his touch as before. He smiled, almost looking relieved.
“Your eyes…” Hermione said slowly when she noticed them, “they’re brown.”
He blinked in surprise. “I must still have my whole soul. Well, I guess that isn’t such a big surprise, since it was you that helped me get it back, however unknowingly, and not the fairies. That’s something at least.”
Before Hermione had time to answer, Alexandra let out a scream behind her. Hermione spun around, wand ready, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with Alexandra. Except that she had spotted Voldemort. Hermione rushed over to her.
“It’s okay, love,” Hermione said, making Alexandra look at her instead. “Your father will only look like this for a little while, as we fix what’s wrong with Althea, okay? Then he will look normal again. And he won’t hurt you. He is still your father.”
Alexandra looked quite terrified, and she kept glancing at him.
“Ah, so this is what you looked like back in the days?” Ken commented, sounding amused. “Egyptian dehumanising spell, if I’m not mistaken? To stop aging and human diseases.”
Voldemort smiled. “I knew there was a reason why I kept you around, Ken.”
He then turned to Alexandra and began speaking to her in Parseltongue. Alexandra whimpered, but answered in Parseltongue. However, their talk was cut short when the house started to shake even more.
“We certainty pissed someone off,” Voldemort muttered and moved over to Althea.
Hermione, who still had her hand on Alexandra’s head, looked at her other daughter. “She isn’t glowing anymore.”
“No, they lost their claim on her,” Voldemort said, holding his wand over Althea, starting to do a diagnostic spell over her. “But it seemed that whatever power they got from her, they are still in possession of.”
“I guess we should cast the spell that breaks all their magical containers in the world, then?” Hermione said, making an attempt to step away from Alexandra, but the girl grabbed her hand tightly.
“Mum, I don’t want Daddy to look so scary,” she whispered, still sounding very afraid.
“It’s just temporary, love,” Hermione promised her. “And even though he looks scary, he won’t do anything scary. I promise. Why don’t you and Ken continue to play cards on the floor while your dad and I help Althea.”
She looked at Ken who shrugged. “Come on, Alexandra. I think you still have some pieces of chocolate left for me to win.”
“You cheated!” Alexandra exclaimed, even though she was still glancing fearfully at Voldemort.
“No, you just have to think of a better strategy when you play,” Ken said and took Alexandra’s hand, leading her to the other end of the room.
Hermione sank down on the spot Alexandra left and turned her attention to Voldemort and Althea again. At once, she could see that Voldemort wasn’t happy.
“What?” she asked.
“She is still infected with fairy magic,” Voldemort said grimly. “As long as she is, we can’t banish them.”
“But how? We broke your agreement with them!” Hermione cried.
“Well, it did say that it didn’t change history. She was still created by the help of fairy magic. True, the Shared Flame would make sure she was created anyway, since we are apparently extremely fertile … but I don’t think they can use her anymore. They have lost that part.”
“But as long as they are in this world, they will try to find a way to gain control over her again,” Hermione pointed out. “And now that they have regained some of their magic, there is no telling what they can do.”
“I know that,” Voldemort spat. “We need to remove it. I just don’t know … let me think.”
He began pacing the room. Hermione looked down at Althea’s sleeping form, fear running through her body. Their banishing spell would only work if they managed to break all the fairies ties to this world. The spell they had designed to shatter those bonds would break every place they had stored their magic in at once. It could kill Althea. There was no way Hermione would let that happen.
Of course, judging by the sound coming from outside the basement, the fairies would kill every one of them once they got inside. In that scenario, everyone but Althea would die.
Well, unless it was true what Voldemort had said, and the fairies couldn’t kill Alexandra either. It did make sense, though. Alexandra had been at the fairies mercy not even an hour ago. Why hadn’t they just killed her then? They must have known Alexandra would try to get Althea back, and they clearly wanted Althea.
What could it be that stopped them from killing her, though? They hadn’t hesitated to do so when she was still a foetus. Although, come to think of it, why would they have wanted her dead to being with? The fairies didn’t seem like killers, usually. Even Merlin had stated that they only killed as a last resort. They were more interested in keeping magical things alive and using them for themselves. They liked magical power a lot, just by itself. It made sense that they would chose a child of a couple with Shared Flame to get new magic, since those children were the most powerful—
“Oh,” Hermione said. “Oh!”
“What?” Voldemort stopped, looking at her.
“Our Shared Flame – we have the same magical core!”
Voldemort arched a non-existent eyebrow in question.
“What if Alexandra and Althea have the same magic as well? According to the Appletons, we can’t live without each other. What if the same is true for Alexandra and Althea? What if that is why the fairies can’t kill her? And they haven’t tried to kill her since she was born. They just tried to make me have an abortion! Foetus’s feed off of the mother’s magic, so she wouldn’t have come into her own powers yet,” Hermione pointed out.
“But Althea and Alexandra doesn’t feel pleasure when they touch each other,” Voldemort noted, looking over at Alexandra and Ken sat. Neither of them was playing cards anymore, they were both listening to them. “Alex, does it feel different for you to touch your sister, as opposed to when you touch someone else?”
Alexandra shook her head, not looking at her father. It seemed it would take quite some time before she got over how scary he looked. Hermione didn’t have time to worry about that now, though. Her mind was working furiously. The tremors were becoming stronger and stronger, causing the jars on the shelves to vibrate against one-another.
“But there is some sort of bond between them,” Hermione continued. “What if their magic is just similar enough, you know, like blood?”
“We can test it,” Voldemort said and hurried over to Althea. “Alex, come here.”
Alexandra didn’t seem very happy with that prospect. Hermione walked over to her and took her hand, leading her back.
“It’s okay,” she comforted her daughter. “We will just do a quick test.”
Taking a sample of one’s magic was just as easy as taking a blood sample, but without having to break the skin. Voldemort had it done in under a minute.
“They aren’t the same, but they are more alike than what should be possible,” Voldemort concluded, measuring the samples next to each other in the air. “It has to be because there is no variety in our magical cores. It’s magical incest, but with clones making children, not siblings…”
“Shouldn’t incest make them weaker?”
“Apparently not,” Voldemort said, still looking at the samples. “They have more raw magical energy than either of us. I think they are actually fuelling each other’s magic.”
“Do you think that’s why they didn’t kill Alex?” Hermione asked.
“Yes. Once Alex was born, Althea’s magic bonded with hers. I have no idea what will happen if one of them were to die. But that’s not what matters now. What’s matters is that we can make a transfusion with this,” Voldemort said, sounding amazed.
“What?” Hermione said. “I thought wizards couldn’t make transfusion because— oh.”
Voldemort nodded. “Yes, normally, the magic fights off any foreign elements. It’s statistically impossible to find someone who is both a magical and a blood match. But they are sisters and compatible in both blood and magic. We can flush Althea’s magic clean of fairy magic with the help of Alexandra.”
Alexandra whimpered. “Mum, what does that mean?”
Hermione stroked her hair. “It means you can save your sister from the fairies.” She looked up at Voldemort. “And that must be why they didn’t want her to be born! They were afraid we would realise this!”
Voldemort’s eyes were aglow with excitement, and for a moment, she didn’t see the snake like features, just the husband that she loved. It had removed whatever lingering fear she had of seeing him like this again.
Below them, they could hear the wards to the house break with a moan.
“Ken, guard the door,” Voldemort ordered and then turned to Hermione again. “We have to do it now.”
“Do we have to right equipment?” Hermione wondered. A transfusion was tricky business after all.
“I’ll improvise. Sedate her,” Voldemort ordered and went over to a supply cupboard at the other end of the room.
Hermione turned to Alexandra, taking a deep breath.
“Mum, what are you going to do?” Alexandra sounded even more scared than she had been a minute ago.
“Do you want to save your sister, Alex?” Hermione asked.
“What’ll happen?” she asked with a weak voice.
“We will borrow a little bit of your magic to save Althea,” Hermione explained. “You won’t feel a thing. In fact, I’m going to put you to sleep, and when you wake up, all this will be over, and you will be in your own bed, and then we will make you pancakes to breakfast. I’ll make your dad do them in those funny shapes you like.”
Alexandra looked at her sister. “Why does Althea need my magic?”
“Because the fairies have made her sick,” Hermione explained. “Your magic will get it out of her.”
It sounded as if someone was trying to break down the door. Alexandra winced at the sound.
“Will you help her?” Hermione asked, her wand already ready to put her daughter to sleep.
After just half a second of hesitation, Alexandra nodded.
“You are such a good and brave girl,” Hermione said and kissed her forehead. “Sleep well, love.”
As Alexandra closed her eyes, Hermione felt her heart take a double beat in fear. What if she had just fallen asleep for good? They didn’t have much time left. If they weren’t able to go through with it, this would be the last time she ever got to talk to her daughter. There was no doubt in her mind that the fairies were going to kill her if they got through that door.
No! She couldn’t think like that. They would get through this. She was Hermione Granger, and nothing would ever take her away from her children.
“Are you ready?” Hermione called out to Voldemort. It sounded like the fairies were trying to break in through every wall at once. She didn’t dare to ask how much time they had left. Voldemort knew to hurry.
He had another knife in his hand when he came back. “We should move them to the floor,” he said and with a wave of his wand, they were on the floor. He removed the blanket from Althea and cut a thin line on the back of her hand. Then he took Alexandra’s hand and cut another thin line at the inside of her palm before placing it down on top of Althea’s injured hand.
“Sit down behind me and put your arms around me,” Voldemort said. “If we need to communicate, we will do it the fast way, but I can’t have you getting in my way.”
She did as ordered and sat down behind him, sneaking her hands underneath his shirt. His skin was colder than it had been before, but it didn’t bother her. She closed her eyes and sank into Voldemort. It was best if there were no delays between their interactions. If she was able to anticipate what he was about to do, she could help at once, without him having to explain it.
Voldemort usually didn’t like having her inside his mind, but this time he didn’t scold her. He was also aware how little time they had. Just like her, he was concerned about how fast the fairies had gone through their line of defence.
The magic inside the sisters were laid out like a sea of colours before his inner eye. Hermione saw the contaminated, dark green areas of fairy magic inside Althea. It was like two dark spots on an otherwise bright yellow aura. Alexandra had the same yellow aura around her, but without the spots. At the place where their hands met, their magic had already started intertwining. It was almost impossible to see what belonged to which girl.
Voldemort took a deep breath and started to move the magic inside Alexandra into Althea. His idea was simple; he was going to drown the dark areas inside Althea with Alexandra’s magic. He was moving more on intuition than knowledge. Hermione was almost envious of his relationship with magic. He was truly a great wizard; working the magic the same way he would use a limb.
It’s working! Hermione noted in excitement when she saw how the spots started to dim inside of Althea.
Voldemort didn’t reply. He was too focused on what he was doing. While he worked, Hermione could hear his thoughts in the back of his mind. He was still calculating plans, even though his focus was elsewhere. So was she. The longer she stayed inside his head, the more their minds started to work as one, analysing and calculating together. They wouldn’t have a lot of time left to cast the last two spells that would destroy and banish the fairies once he was done with Althea.
Thus, Hermione started to prepare herself to cast the first spell the moment Voldemort had flushed all fairy magic out of Althea. There couldn’t be anything left, or they would risk hurting her.
The whole room was shaking around them. Hermione could hear jars falling off their shelves, bouncing around. Trust Voldemort to make every tiny bottle unbreakable, no matter how insignificant the content was. Behind her, she could hear Mizuro adding more layers to the wards. It would buy them a few more minutes.
Go! Voldemort’s voice echoed in her head the moment he was finished with the transfusion. At once, Hermione withdrew from him and picked up the crystal they had prepared earlier. It would channel the energy of the spell, breaking every other storage of fairy magic in this dimension. The problem was that they would have to wait a few minutes for it to take full effect. They had no way of knowing how many objects there were around the globe, but they had calculated for it to be a thousand. That would mean it would take around three minutes for the spell to take full effect.
The door to the basement broke, splintering into a million pieces. A second ward kept them from getting hurt, but Hermione could see a dark, grey mist forming outside, trying to come in. It seemed that the fairies were no longer bothered with a corporeal form.
“Your time in this dimension is over,” Voldemort said, voice calm but high. He had risen from the floor, and his wand was raised, but he looked as if he had everything under control. “Any last words you wish to share with us?”
At once, everything turned quiet. The room stopped shaking, but instead, it looked as if the cloud was growing. It still hadn’t made it inside the room, but it turned darker, filling the whole opening. A rumbling was heard from inside it. It sounded almost like thunder.
Hermione barely had time to reflect over the metaphor when the cloud discharged, sending out a strike of lightening. It caused a rift in the ward and Hermione didn’t have time to even blink until it hit the bench next to her. She let out a yelp in surprise and immediately pulled up a shield around herself and the children.
It wasn’t a minute too soon. The next strike of lightning came right into her shield, forcing her back several feet. She stumbled and would have fallen if Ken hadn’t caught her. She didn’t know how he managed to move from the opening to behind her so fast, and neither did she have time to thank him. More lightning was coming their way.
Like lightning, the strikes were imprecise. Most of the strikes didn’t even touch their shields, but destroyed the room around them as the dark cloud came into the room. As it did, it started to grow larger, spreading out against the ceiling and walls at the opposite side of the room, forming a great black wall in front of them. Hermione wished she would have had the opportunity to move her daughters, but there was no chance. Instead, she had to look out so she wasn’t stumbling over them. She needed to get closer to Voldemort. They had decided to do the banishing spell together to be sure they had enough power. Alas, that meant touching, and it was hard when they were both holding off these attacks.
Voldemort seemed to have reached the same conclusion. “Shield us,” he cried to Ken and jumped over Althea to grab Hermione’s hand.
As quick as a weasel, Ken was in front of them, holding both his hands up, as if he was ready to physically fight the cloud off.
Now, Voldemort told her.
They both let go of their shields at the same time and started the spell that would banish the fairies into another dimension. It felt like the longest spell Hermione had ever cast, but in reality it probably didn’t take more than two seconds. As soon as it was done, they raised their shields again.
For a moment, it didn’t look as if it had worked. The dark cloud had almost reached Ken, looking ready to devour him, shield or no shield. Then, it was gone. No fading, or moaning, just gone. As if it had never been there.
Hermione felt her knees give in, and fell to the ground, her whole body trembling. Next to her, she felt Voldemort do the same thing. Or maybe he was just checking to see that she was okay. All energy had left her just as suddenly as the fairies. They had known it would be draining to do the banishing spell. It wasn’t magic that was meant to be done. There was no telling what consequences it would have.
But it would be worth it if it meant their daughters were safe. It was worth it.
That was the last thought passing through Hermione’s mind before she passed out.

xxx

Voldemort caught Hermione as she fainted. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anything amiss, other than exhaustion. His poor, little kitten wasn’t used to so many powerful spells at once. Even he felt shaky and drained. It was a good thing that he had got so much magic from fucking earlier; otherwise, he would have joined her into the land of unconsciousness. He couldn’t though. There were still things he needed to handle.
Summoning a pillow, he placed Hermione next to Alexandra before rising to his feet again. His vision darkened for a moment, but he pretended like nothing was amiss as he made his way to the couch where Mizuro had collapsed. Like him, Mizuro was still conscious, but seemed drained as well. Voldemort sat down next to him, wand still in his hand.
Mizuro saw it. “Is it my turn now?”
Voldemort smiled. “Why do you think that?”
“You don’t approve of people knowing your weaknesses,” Mizuro said softly, looking at Hermione.
“She is not a weakness. She makes me stronger than I have ever been,” Voldemort drawled. Even though he had his wand hand in his lap, he was ready to curse Mizuro at a moment’s notice. Mizuro was also holding his wand. The real question was who would strike first, and if they were alert enough to block an attack.
Mizuro smiled. “Are you lying to me to test me, or are you hoping I’ll take your excuse and we’ll walk away from this as if nothing had happened?”
Voldemort laughed. “That’s why I like you, Ken. You refuse to play the game. It’s amusing.”
“I learnt from the best,” Mizuro answered, still smiling.
“Will you fight back?” Voldemort asked.
Mizuro looked down at his wand. “I wouldn’t be honouring your lessons if I didn’t.”
“True.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Voldemort studied his old student. Mizuro had many qualities he valued in his minions. He followed orders without question, but could improvise when needed. He was intelligent and observant enough that Voldemort sometimes didn’t even need to voice his orders out loud. He was resourceful, amusing and powerful.
But Voldemort couldn’t trust him. Mizuro was a survivor. If he found someone he thought would be better than Voldemort, Mizuro would leave him without looking back. Because, just like Voldemort, he wasn’t burdened by loyalty. It was all about power.
Hermione hadn’t thought about that when she started to talk about their bond. She was too trusting. She hadn’t considered that maybe Voldemort didn’t want Mizuro to hear about how they may not be able to live without each other. Thus, Voldemort now needed to clean up after Hermione’s mistake.
It would have happened sooner or later, though. Mizuro was too curious and too intelligent to not figure it out eventually. Voldemort was actually surprised he hadn’t already.
“Avada Kedavra,” Voldemort said softly.
Mizuro, though, knew it was coming. He had already jumped from the couch, into the air, and landed on the other side of room. He sent his own hex back, but it was weak. Holding back the fairies must have taken a great deal of power out of him.
Voldemort rose, sending another killing spell. He wasn’t interested in making Mizuro suffer. His minion deserved a fast, pain free death. That was how far Voldemort’s mercy stretched.
Mizuro jumped out of the way again, sending two hexes at once, which Voldemort easily blocked as he advanced towards the other man. Mizuro backed up, throwing hex after hex towards Voldemort. The fight was unfair to begin with. Mizuro had taken a vow promising to never use Dark Arts against him. Thus, he didn’t stand a chance. The hexes could all be deflected and after just half a minute, Voldemort had backed him into a corner.
They stared at each other, faces blank. It was only because he knew him so well that Voldemort could see that Mizuro was scared and defeated. They knew it would always come down to this. They had both enjoyed a productive partnership during the past ten years, but it was always a matter of time before one of them had to off the other one.
“Is this where I’m supposed to beg for my life?” Mizuro asked quietly.
“Usually. But it never helps,” Voldemort answered and slashed his wand towards the other man.
Mizuro blocked the spell, but he didn’t see the knife coming. Voldemort had still had the ceremonial knife in his pocket. He quickly slashed Mizuro’s stomach, angling the knife so it went under the ribs and into the heart, before twisting it, and then pulling it out again.
The body fell to the floor, dead. Voldemort dropped the knife on the floor and wiped his bloody hand clean on his robe. Now, it was time to fool the Aurors again.
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