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Two Steps From Hell	By : Ssserpensssotia Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 30375 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. No profit is being made. No copyright infringement is intended. Everything Harry Potter related belongs to J.K.Rowling.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
AN/ Most of the chapter is Hermione's POV. The longest chapter so far.
I hope you enjoy it. As always, your comments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.
Longer AN at the end of the chapter.
Beta: Serpent In Red
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I, Horcrux
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Chapter Seven
The Calming Draught that Voldemort had presented as Amortentia—Hermione still could not believe just how easily he had managed to trick her!—was working now. Hermione felt not only calmer and more at ease, but her turbulent mind was slowing down as well.
She could breathe.
Finally.
The Dark Lord was quiet and Hermione decided not to test his patience and remained silent as well.
Quietly sipping her tea, Hermione decided to use the chance and study Voldemort's appearance in more detail. If he had anything against it, she was positive he would let her know.
She was curious.
He was still sitting in his chair, his one hand supporting his chin and the other lying calmly on the armrest, one familiar bone-white wand swaying slowly on his ring finger.
How does he do that?
He looked relaxed and Hermione wondered, not for the first time, just what he was thinking.
His tall but thin frame was clad in dark, lightly shimmering robes—silk, most probably—and it pooled over him, cascading down to the floor.
His face looked serpentine and very pale—almost white—with two small holes instead of a nose. He had no hair and his bald scalp was almost reflecting the blazing flames from the fireplace.
Does he polish it?
His eyes lit up with hidden fire and Hermione wanted to smack her face.
Hermione could see Voldemort close his eyes for a second—he had no lashes!—before slowly opening them again.
His red eyes were trained on her, but his gaze lacked its usual drilling, penetrating quality. He was simply sitting there, allowing her to compose herself and watch him watch her.
Hermione felt peculiar.
On one hand, she was still shocked from the events of the last day—two days, Hermione corrected herself—and no matter how quick on the uptake she had always been, she still needed time. And she was still in his presence which didn't help her thinking process at all.
On the other hand, Hermione's calm mind was now demanding answers, wanting information and refusing to step back and just let her study him.
For he was something she had never seen before. Supreme evilness aside, not only was he superior in magic to anyone she had ever met—possibly excluding Dumbledore—but he was also extremely intelligent.
And she had thought herself to be smart.
Hermione did not know Lord Voldemort at all, and it made her curious mind explode with millions of questions.
She didn't even try to assure herself that she could predict his next moves, for it would be just a waste of time. He had shown her today that she was nothing compared to him.
And she didn't like it.
Hermione did not have any clue what Voldemort wanted to discuss with her, and if she had to guess she would have thought it had something to do with the blasted Horcrux that was inside of her head.
Inside of her.
Strangely, the incident in the bathroom had been the only time she had felt its presence. She could not feel the Horcrux; she could not feel it at all. He was just there and that was it.
Hermione vividly remembered how she felt there,how the Horcrux had reacted to Voldemort's presence. She still didn't know where they had all been, and it wasn't like she had the time to think about it …
If Hermione had to guess again, she would say that Voldemort had something to do with it. He could control it, as he had shown her while on their … trip. Hermione tried her damnedest not to think about those horrible moments. Not now.
The barrier inside her head had not been there in the Forest—she would have noticed—which meant that it had appeared—Hermione used the word loosely, as she was sure it didn't just appear there on its own—sometime between her falling asleep and waking up.
Which meant Voldemort did see her while she was out cold.
What else did he do?
Did he remove my pullover to see the mark between my breasts? Has he seen them while I was sleeping? Did he-
Hermione honestly did not think that he, Lord Voldemort, would rape her while she was sleeping or that he would pay any attention to her body overall. However, he was the Dark Lord and she didn't know what to expect.
He made her feel peculiar.
"I assure you, Miss Granger, that I did not salivate over you prone figure as you slept on a dark, moonlit bed."
He didn't have to word it that way—and with so much venom that if he were to bite her, she'd die from poisoning—but it was exactly what Hermione had thought about before he decided to break the silence.
"Nor did I touch your virgin body in any way, sexual included." His voice was gaining an annoyed undertone as he mercilessly continued addressing her fears.
He did see her naked in the bathroom.
She did not know why, but she was afraid that he could force her to be … intimate with him.
She wasn't ugly and he was a man—was he one?—and if he was, then-
"I suggest you stop on your own. Before I force you to do so."
Hermione couldn't stop the shudder that ran through her body at his bone-chilling tone and the use of Parseltongue.
Where could she voice her fears if not in her head?
"I apologize, Sir," Hermione's quiet whisper sounded like a scream in the quiet, spacey room.
Voldemort rubbed his now closed eyes with a thumb and a forefinger. He looked to be almost-there on his frenzy-metre.
That wasn't even a proper word!
She felt stupid now.
"You have only one thing I am interested in—and that is my own Horcrux. So I suggest you put your wild fantasies to rest, Miss Granger."
I don't have such fantasies! That isn't fair!
Hermione felt so childish now, sitting near the Dark Lord and thinking all those stupid thoughts.
She needed to stop provoking him! Was she stupid?
"I have promised that I would be lenient with you today, but I find my patience thinning." Voldemort was now sitting straight, and Hermione felt his gaze return to its usual drilling quality. She had his full attention now.
She preferred him relaxed.
"Then you will listen closely and not interrupt me," the Dark Lord's voice had a note of finality in it that let Hermione know that there would be no warning or reprimand next time.
Hermione nodded her head in silent agreement.
"The barrier inside your head is a form of Forced Occlumency—a branch of magic that can only be accessed by selected wizards, yourself excluded, for an unknown period of time." Voldemort started his speech casually, with an air of lightness that Hermione would have never associated with him in the first place.
She conveniently ignored the protest that had automatically arisen at his jab and focused all her attention on his next words.
He was right. She had still so much to learn!
And he was providing her with exactly what she needed—information.
"Because of our connection, you will find yourself experiencing every emotion that I experience. However, that is not the problem."
Not a problem?
"The problem is that it works both ways. I find myself forced to constantly fight off your emotions. You disturb me, little girl. And I don't like it."
As if I did…
"Seeing as we both agree that keeping our minds as far from each other as possible would be the best option, then you will come to me every three days in the beginning, and, hopefully, every other week or even a month after you start learning how to Occlude your mind without my assistance."
Did he say Occlude?
Every three days, a month … Does he mean what I thought he did? Or is it another hoax?
Voldemort tilted his head to the right, his shoulders relaxed but straight.
"You are free to go after we are done, Miss Granger," he said with an indifferent but indulging voice.
Hermione forgot how to breathe for a moment.
She was free!
But she had his Horcrux …
"And here comes the interesting part." At this, Voldemort smiled before sitting back in the chair and crossing his feet. A slightly pointy, black shoe toe was peeking from under the mass of robes—she had imagined him barefoot, with long, yellow pointy toenails and-
"Miss Granger, if my feet interest you more than your own well-being, then you seriously need to straighten your priorities."
She felt her cheeks heat up and she knew she was blushing.
She couldn't help herself! She was curious. And it was her mind!
The Dark Lord's hand dropped into his pocket and withdrew something glittering.
Another potion …
But no, it wasn't a potion, Hermione decided on further notice—it was a ring!
Horror-struck, Hermione stared at the simple golden band that Voldemort was now holding with his thumb and index fingers.
Was he going to marry-
"Is there something I have missed, Miss Granger? Do you have some unhealthy obsession with my person that I should be aware of?" Voldemort's voice was now mocking, with a hint of lingering amusement.
Hermione blushed.
She did not have an obsession with him! She felt stupid.
Her thoughts were not listening to her today. At all.
Besides, he probably can't even get it up, with all his transformations-
Hermione's swirling thoughts were brought to abrupt halt as she couldn't take a breath. Her throat was squeezed with an invincible force and her lungs burned.
"What part of today's lesson did you not understand?" Voldemort's voice made her heart clench for he was truly furious now.
Hermione tried to bring her hands to her throat, to scratch it raw just to get some air, when she found her hands immobile, as if they weren't her hands anymore.
Panic started to bloom now, the effects of the Calming Draught disappearing rapidly and Hermione screamed in her mind. She needed to breathe.
'I didn't mean it, Sir!'
She was released when the invisible force disappeared and her lips opened in silent scream as air rushed into her lungs.
It had never felt so good … to just breathe.
Her hands were also her own again, and Hermione brought them to her now sore throat.
She promised herself she'd remain quiet and listen.
The Dark Lord was looking at her with barely restrained rage and Hermione gulped in anticipation. She was therefore greatly surprised when he leaned closer and whispered in a hushed, lulling voice.
"Tell me, what are your dreams, Miss Granger?"
Hermione kept an iron will on all her thoughts and it helped her not to gawk mentally. Her facial expression was, however, out of her control, for she was sure her eyes were now as wide as sausages. The Parseltongue didn't help at all.
"If you had a chance at, let's say, a normal life, what would you do then?"
Hermione pondered for a second before truthfully answering the question.
Not like she could lie …
"I would study. I would finish Hogwarts, " Hermione paused to watch his reaction as he nodded his head for her to continue.
"I would study—" She was repeating herself!"—and then, probably, I would apply for a job at the Ministry or maybe Hogwarts," Hermione started surely, but ended with a weird sense of disappointment and incertitude.
She had such a turbulent life that she hadn't really given a thought lately to what her dreams were now. All she could think most of in the last year was how to survive.
Voldemort nodded his head again.
"So, I take it, you are sure only about the studying part?" he asked in a hushed but urging voice.
"Well … yes." His eyes blazed and Hermione quickly added, "Sir."
"And what would you want to study, Miss Granger?" Voldemort was now calm and relaxed again, and Hermione found herself lulled into relaxing as well.
So far, he was very polite and the conversation was serious but she didn't feel threaten now.
As Voldemort half-pulled the ring on his index finger and reached for his cup, Hermione decided to follow. Her throat felt like sandpaper.
"I would finish Hogwarts and then, em, I would pursue some other forms of studying—apprentice to a Master, perhaps." She paused and took a mouthful of tea and the Calming Draught that was giving a slightly bitter aftertaste.
"I would have loved to study Arithmancy or Ancient Runes or Charms," Hermione sighed a bit dreamingly, her mind already imagining what it could have been like. In another life.
"Interesting." Lord Voldemort was now twirling the golden ring between his fingers, looking pensive.
Hermione wondered again what the ring was for.
And what was interesting?
"Here is my proposition for you. Listen very carefully as I will not repeat myself," he said while catching her gaze and holding it, not letting it go.
She was all ears.
"You have a choice to become my magical ward, " Voldemort smirked at Hermione's shocked face before hitting the nail into her coffin. "Or die now."
"Magical ward?" Hermione managed to move her uncooperative tongue.
Silence.
"Sir," she added while licking her lips.
"Yes, I would be your magical guardian. Seeing that you carry a tiny part of my soul, I feel it's only appropriate that I should supervise your further education and any other official or magical procedures," Voldemort explained with an air of impatience.
"My further education, Sir?" There must be something wrong with her hearing.
Had I finally cracked?
"You will be attending a University of my choosing." The Dark Lord looked at her with pensive, hard eyes.
"University, Sir?" Now, Hermione was sure that she was hallucinating.
"Are you a parrot, Miss Granger?"
Trying not to stammer, Hermione finally voiced her disbelieving question.
"Am I going to attend a magical University, Sir?" She tried to tell herself that she wasn't really holding her breath.
"No, Muggle," Voldemort actually sneered at her.
Well, of course he would choose a magical university!
Hermione mentally gave herself a T for Troll and a silent but meaningful Duh.
She felt ashamed.
She wasn't stupid. Normally.
Hermione suddenly felt out of her depth. Again.
"I don't understand, Sir." Hermione wasn't slow but now she felt her mind numb.
Why would he do it?
"I am doing this not for you, but for myself and myself only, Miss Granger. Your mind is most calm and collected when you study." Voldemort got up from the chair and walked over to the fireplace, turning his back to her as he continued, "Therefore, I have decided it would be the best to send you to a magical university that would challenge your mind and keep your revolting emotions at bay. You will study hard, little girl. It will not be a walk in the park for your intellect any longer. "
Something told Hermione to shut up and wait. Be silent.
This something was proven correct when Voldemort continued after a pause.
"It is time for you to walk on your own, Miss Granger. Stop letting foolish beliefs and obtuse friends ground you. Allow yourself to fly."
His words were smooth and silky and Hermione felt herself shiver.
His words cut into her memory without her even thinking about it.
It was the nicest thing he said about her.
That she was meant to fly.
She was sure she wasn't supposed to feel pleased.
Hermione thought that her head would explode from all the questions that she wanted to ask him.
What university? What would she study?
Dark Arts, Necromancy-
Her thoughts halted when Voldemort turned to face her and took a step forward, closing the distance between them.
Hermione's heart clenched.
"Do you accept?" His voice was cool and calm when he approached her and twirled the ring in front of her face.
"I …"
She needed time to think!
"If you don't accept, then I shall kill you now—Horcrux or no Horcrux, make no mistake, little girl." Voldemort squatted near her, and Hermione could only watch him with terror suffocating her mind.
"Not only will I kill you, I will torture all your friends before killing them also." Voldemort's eyes were now on the same level as hers and she could see he wasn't joking.
He was dead serious.
"And if that is not enough, I will also restore your filthy parents' memory before giving them to the werewolves. " A sadistic smile was now stretched over the Dark Lord's serpentine face as he took in her horror and fear.
"And … and if I accept, will you spare them?" It had taken all her willpower just to not scream in agony.
"If you accept, I will not purposely seek them out," Voldemort offered in a calm but impatient voice.
She was going to regret it, Hermione just knew it, as making deals with the devil had never been a good idea.
But she had no choice. He would kill everyone without a second thought. Had he not shown her today just what he was capable of, Hermione was sure she'd think longer before answering.
"I accept … Sir," her voice was steady, even though she was trembling like a leaf when his hand shot out and grabbed her right wrist.
His fingers felt so cold when he pushed the simple gold band onto her index finger before releasing her hand and standing up.
"Then so be it," he intoned while holding his wand trained at the now iron-hot metal band.
Hermione was about to scream from the pain when the burning started to lessen before disappearing completely.
Looking at her index finger, Hermione felt the ring vibrate lightly.
A whirl of magic could be felt in the room as the bond was sealed.
"I expect you in three days, Miss Granger. Your studies start in a week, so I suggest you hurry with the packing."
The Dark Lord looked at the stunned Hermione before moving to the door.
What? In a week?
How was she supposed to come to him? Where were they, anyway? Was it his home? Where-
"Use your mind for at least a second, you stupid child!" Voldemort barked suddenly. "Where would you find fluffy pink carpets and huge mirrors in gold frames? Not to mention the peacocks and flamingos outside."
Hermione pursed her lips when she felt yet another blush spread over her cheeks.
Malfoy Manor.
Hermione attributed her lack of observation and overall dullness she was showing today to the stress of dealing with one Dark Lord.
"The ring has the properties of a Portkey. Activate it and you'll find yourself in my presence." Voldemort sounded amused now.
How was she supposed to activate it?
"You have three days to figure it out, little girl."
"I have a question, Sir." Hermione shot up from her chair when Voldemort moved to open the door.
He was leaving!
Hermione saw Voldemort stop and turn to face her.
"But of course you do, Miss Granger." His red eyes were serious but his voice was not as cold as she had anticipated. Nor was he enraged.
"Is Harry alive?" Hermione held her breath when those horrible eyes shone with flames of rage and anger.
She needed to know!
Voldemort took his time and Hermione was ready to bounce from anticipation when she finally heard his reply.
"Potter will be leaving with you tomorrow," Voldemort smirked at Hermione's gobsmacked expression.
What?
"This is not a kindergarten, nor do I have baby-sitters. I have no need for obtuse children polluting the air that I breathe." He was angry again.
He still didn't answer her question!
"I haven't killed him yet, little girl. He'll live. He's nothing important, not anymore."
Hermione tried not to smile, but the relief was so strong that she thought she'd pass out even before Voldemort had left.
His previous words seemed to finally register in her exhausted mind and she just had to ask.
"Why cannot we leave today, Sir?"
She knew she was pushing him, but she was so damn curious and after finding out that Harry was alive and that they'd be leaving this place tomorrow, Hermione could not hold herself back. She was a Gryffindor!
Voldemort actually smirked before pointing to the meal that was previously brought by the house-elf.
"You haven't eaten yet—" His voice mocking and ruthless. "—and I would be a poor host if I left my ward to starve."
Hermione thought her jaw would hit the floor.
"You will eat everything that is on the plate and will drink this—" Voldemort suddenly threw a small vial onto the bed. "—before going to sleep. Tomorrow morning, you are free to go wherever you wish."
Before Hermione had a chance to say anything, Voldemort opened the door and left.
xxx
Hermione Granger sat back in her chair—she wouldn't be sitting where Voldemort had sat before—and took a deep breath.
She had so much to think about, so many things unclear that Hermione was sure her head would just explode.
After consuming—like a wild, hungry animal— the deliciously warm meal that consisted of a beef wellington with fingerling potatoes and some marinated salad—she didn't think she had ever eaten anything as tasty—Hermione paced the length of the room, trying to sort out her thoughts.
Her new clothes and especially her robes were warm but light and Hermione found that she rather liked them if she forgot for a second who provided her with them in the first place.
She wished she had her wand!
When will I get my wand back? If at all …
She was alive and almost free; Harry was alive and almost free; and in one week, she was supposed to go to a magical university. It sounded almost ridiculously relieving. She would lie if she said she wasn't feeling hopeful. Maybe it was not the end?
People can say all they want about having no fear of death, but as soon as they actually met Death, the "not-being afraid" could drastically change. Not that there were many people who had met Death and then lived to tell the tale—her, Harry and Voldemort; both Voldemort and Harry for a second time.
Hermione shuddered.
It hadn't been pleasant.
Poor Harry.
What was happening to Harry now?
She highly doubted that Voldemort would just let Harry go without first either breaking or almost-breaking him. After witnessing the Dark Lord's sadistic side from a very close distance, Hermione Granger was sure that Harry was suffering now. Voldemort hated him. And there was nothing she could do.
She could have chosen not to eat, but it would have not changed anything. Voldemort would still inflict immerse pain on Harry and the only thing Hermione could do was hope that Harry would be strong enough.
That Harry would not go insane.
She already tried the handle of the door—he didn't say she couldn't!—and the balcony doors—locked—and there was just nothing to do but sit in a chair and think.
She was Voldemort's magical ward. He was her guardian now. Hermione still didn't want to believe it even when she said it out loud.
It was hard to comprehend that all your rights were now placed with a man like the Dark Lord.
Hermione promised herself to read everything she would find on the topic. She didn't understand his decision to send her away and it made her wary. Even though the reasoning had been logical then, now she wasn't so sure anymore. Something fishy was going on.
What would happen if someone tried to kill her?
Also, Hermione wasn't so sure anymore how she felt about dying.
The Horcrux had to be destroyed, but then …
What about her?
Hermione wished to believe that she was brave enough to sacrifice herself one more time…
She would lie if she said she was ready.
The ring felt warm and Hermione twisted it on her index finger absentmindedly.
She'd better get used to it. She didn't wear rings often.
It was futile to try and analyze Lord Voldemort, their current predicament, Harry, Ron, and the whole war situation when she couldn't think straight. Her thoughts swirled in circles and Hermione decided she needed to stop.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione opened the vial that Voldemort had previously tossed onto the bed.
She had already identified what was inside—Dreamless Sleep potion—and all she wanted was for tomorrow to arrive soon, so she drank the whole bottle before quietly lying on top of the duvet and fell asleep even before her head touched the pillow.
Had Hermione Granger stayed awake, she maybe would have thought about the stone that she had collected in the Forbidden Forest and put into her jeans' pocket.
However, Hermione Granger was deep asleep and didn't think about anything, the stone included.
Had she thought about the stone and tried to retrieve it from her old clothes that were huddled together in the bathroom, she would have found the stone long gone.
No, Hermione Granger was fast asleep.
xxx
Harry Potter was thrashing on the floor under the most excruciating pain he had ever felt; the pain seemed to tear him apart, not caring about his broken fingers or bloody head.
He was so close to snapping. He was so close to losing his mind. The last desperate thoughts seemed to balance on the thin cord that connected two mountains, and the cord was shaking. Someone was twitching the cord on which Harry's last coherent—sane—thoughts quaked.
"Renounce your right for the cloak." Voldemort's cold voice was entering every cell of his body. "Renounce the invisibility cloak or I will continue torturing your Mudblood friend until she starts begging for death, Harry."
This was a third time Voldemort demanded that he released the cloak. Harry tried to resist, but it was too much.
"Promise you let her go," Harry's voice was raw from all the screaming. It was just too much.
"You have my word, Harry Potter."
"I renounce it." His voice was full of regret and fear.
Hermione will be ok.
xxx
"How do we like our Crucio, Harry?"
His biggest mistake probably didn't even hear him, as this was his fifth Crucio already, and he wasn't anywhere near being done.
Before the boy's mind could snap, Voldemort cancelled his curse. He—unlike Bella and Barty—had always checked the mental stability of the victim.
It would be a pity if the mind snapped and the torture had no more purpose—he didn't torture vegetables.
Not that he cared about the moral part, but it just wasn't the same when the victim was almost brain-dead.
If the victim couldn't understand that he was being tortured, then what was the point?
He tortured Potter for a long time and not only physically. Mental torture worked even better on him.
And the other Gryffindor in his care, for that matter.
Finally, finally, after threatening Potter for the third time with the Mudblood's terrible fate—she was now sleeping in a warm, cozy bed—he heard what he came for.
"I renounce it."
And then he felt the stone in his robe pocket burn, he felt the wand vibrate in the inner pocket and he saw the cloak quiver.
He had all three Deathly Hallows now.
He was the Master of Death.
xxx
AN/ This is the last chapter of the first part, called I, Horcrux. The second part will be called Two Steps From Hell and it will also be the main part of the story. I, Horcrux is meant to be a sort of introduction; while I placed the figures on the chessboard to play with. If you're wondering, there will be three parts.
The story will be renamed and it will stay Two Steps from Hell from next chapter and onwards.
See you soon! Waves!
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Two Steps From Hell