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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
AN: See, three new chapters and all in one day! :)
Here is a new chapter. This one is huge by my standards- 21 Word pages :)
I apologize if the story's new name caused you confusion. I should have named it Two Steps from the beginning. My bad.
I try to keep everyone in character, but I am not sure if I always succeed. This chapter is from several POVs and I hope you enjoy it.
Let me know what you think.
Beta: Serpent In Red
xxx
Two Steps From Hell
xxx
Chapter Eight
Remus Lupin took his last sip of the cold coffee, and with a bang, he crashed the mug on the table.
The black liquid washed over the wooden surface before soaking itself into the thin paper of the Daily Prophet. Slowly, but surely, the liquid spread over today's newspaper, and soon Remus saw the words "The new Minister of Magic, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, has welcomed reforms …" disappear in darkness.
An omen.
There was only darkness ahead.
Remus could not just believe it—that they had lost, that Voldemort won.
He closed his eyes.
So many had died.
The Order of the Phoenix existed now in their minds only. There was nothing they could do.
They—he—were useless.
Remus tried not to think about the future his son would have. Maybe, just maybe, he would prefer if his son grew up in another country other than Britain. In France. But it was just a dream as they had no money. He had no money.
The Goblins—unlike the last war—were now fully aligned with the Dark Side. There were rumors that most head goblins had been killed for treason, and the rest now functioned as the Dark Lord's bankers.
The Ministry of Magic was now fully controlled by Voldemort with Lucius Malfoy in charge as Minister.
Remus would have thought that Voldemort would act more slowly and cautiously. But no, the Death Eaters were now everywhere; they weren't hiding anymore.
Now, they were the controlling force.
And no one dared to breathe a word.
It was sickening.
Three days! It took three days for people to forget about that night at Hogwarts; it had taken the common folk to forget that there had been war just three days ago!
Now, most purebloods wore an expression of pure triumph on their snobby faces; most half-bloods were behaving like good citizens of the New Era, and the Muggle-borns …
The prosecutions had been stopped two days ago, and now all Muggle-borns were given a chance- to either declare their loyalty to the new regime or lose their wands and lives.
And Remus wondered if the same would have happened if Albus had still been alive.
Voldemort had only feared one wizard, and now, the Dark Lord had no fear at all.
It was all over from the moment Albus Dumbledore died. It had all ended then, but they tried to fight, not wanting to admit the fact that everything they believed in, everything they cared about was going to be destroyed.
They believed in Harry.
Now, not only did Voldemort have a puppet as a Minister, but also Rabastan Lestrange—the last the name said it all—was the new Hogwarts Headmaster.
The whole magical community was now fully under the Dark Lord's control.
And there was nothing they could do.
Remus wondered, not for the first time since leaving the Headmaster's Office that night, just what would Dumbledore do now.
All his plans were crushed and had crumbled.
Where was Harry?
Where was Hermione?
Taking a deep breath, Remus walked over to the oval vessel on the other side of the table.
The swirling, shimmering liquid mocked him with its lightness.
That night, trying to find Harry, Remus had failed, for he'd never found his pup.
But he'd found something else.
He'd found answers.
And Remus still could not believe just what games Albus had been playing all those years.
And Severus …
It tore his heart that Severus had been on their side all this time; it tore his soul that he now had no chance to apologize to his once school-rival who had given his life for the Light.
To save Harry.
It was three days before the full moon, and there just was no way to contain his animalistic rage.
It has been three days since he had last seen Harry.
It was also three days since anyone had seen Hermione Granger.
Remus Lupin had searched the whole Hogwarts Castle, looking for his pup. He was going crazy with worry when Luna Lovegood—bloodied but alive—had managed to get a hold of him. The strange, but so loyal, girl told him she had seen Harry leave the corridor that connected the Headmaster's office with the rest of the school not so long ago.
And then Remus had found the Pensieve.
With a furious roar, Remus Lupin slammed both of his fists on the table and laid his head between his hands.
They all had failed.
Remus was about to get up and get himself something stronger to drink—to drown his sorrow and horror—when he felt the wards around the Burrow tingle, and then he heard a pop in the front yard.
Running quickly to the entrance, almost tripping over the chair in his hurry, Remus watched with disbelieving eyes and a hammering heart two figures on the lawn.
"Harry," Remus roared as he couldn't control his raging emotions, "Hermione!"
Hermione was holding the unconscious form of her best friend, her one hand firm around Harry's shoulders and the other holding her wand.
xxx
When Hermione woke up this morning, she was greeted with the sight of the same house-elf who had brought her meal yesterday holding a pillow in his tiny hands, her wand on top of it.
Just as Hermione was about to reach for her precious wand, a body appeared from nowhere and fell on the glass table, smashing it with brutal force.
The bruised form of Harry Potter was lying between the glass shards and Hermione quickly grabbed her wand and raced to her friend.
Holding her panic at bay and tightly holding Harry's prone figure, Hermione concentrated and Apparated away.
The wards of Malfoy Manor tingled but let them pass through.
They were free.
xxx
Molly Weasley was sitting near her comatose son, lightly combing his tangled hair with gentle fingers.
Ron still had not woken up, and the only thing they could do was wait and hope.
With trembling lips, Molly whispered another prayer. She prayed all the time now. But it did not help.
Fred was dead.
Ron was in a deep, magical coma with no clear prognosis.
George was on the verge of going crazy with grief.
Bill was bitten by a werewolf, and it was by pure luck that he didn't transform fully.
Arthur was now jobless, after Lucius Malfoy had personally booted him out of the Ministry.
Percy and Charlie had also lost their jobs—the Ministry terminated Percy's contract and Charlie was advised to leave on his own will.
Ginny was crying all the time.
Harry and Hermione were still missing.
There was no perspective for any of them and no normal future; only darkness lay ahead.
Molly swallowed a desperate sob when she thought of what had become of her family.
All her children were now suffering—or dead—and there was nothing she could do.
They had no money.
A deranged cry of "Harry!" and a second later "Hermione!" made her already broken heart miss a beat.
Maybe there still was hope?
With unsteady legs, Molly Weasley ran downstairs.
xxx
Ginny Weasley was crying so hard that the skin around her eyes burned when new tears cascaded down her hollow cheeks.
Harry was gone.
Her family was destroyed.
She had no future.
And there was nothing she could do.
Remus's roar pierced her bleeding heart, and Ginny jumped up from the bed so quickly that she felt dizzy.
Holding the wall for support, she ran down stairs.
Harry.
xxx
Hermione saw Remus race towards them, and she couldn't hold her tears any longer. They cascaded down her pale face, dropping onto Harry's bloody forehead, before running down in pale red spurts.
A second later, Remus was at their side.
He was now gently but urgently removing Harry from Hermione's tight hold.
"He's alive," Hermione whispered through tears.
Hermione saw amber eyes tear up before quickly capturing her gaze.
"What happened?"
Hermione would not know where to start even if she could speak.
"Is it destroyed?"
His voice was tight and those amber eyes looked desperate.
He knows.
Lips dry and her mouth reminding her of the Sahara Desert, Hermione whispered a quiet but resolute "No".
Suddenly, Lupin lifted Harry's unmoving figure and started running towards the Burrow.
Hermione continued sitting on the ground, not being able to get up from the onslaught of emotions that were now suffocating her, her sobs making her shudder even harder.
The last three days have been the most horrible in her life. Hermione had never felt as much fear as she had during those last days. She had never felt so such tension. She had never wanted to wake up more.
Just wake up from this nightmare where she was Lord Voldemort's Horcrux who in one week would start attending a magical University under the same Dark Lord's supervision and find herself in the woods, in the tent.
Anywhere but here.
Through tears, Hermione saw Ginny run out of the Burrow and run towards Lupin, her gaze not leaving Harry's bloodied figure for a second.
Molly appeared on the threshold, looking disheveled.
Hermione could see Molly rush towards her before she finally blacked out.
xxx
Remus Lupin was puzzled.
He was seriously and gravely concerned.
Something was wrong.
Definitely wrong, Remus thought, as he took in Harry's tortured form—his pup was still unconscious—and then looked at Hermione who was lying still on the sofa.
While Harry looked like he returned from a meeting with Lord Voldemort—which was correct— Hermione was completely another story.
Not only was her wand with her, but Hermione was also dressed like a proud pureblood witch who returned from a lesson with her private tutor instead of being in the company of a maniac Dark Lord and hordes of his Death Eaters.
Hermione had not been tortured, and there were no spells cast on her that left a trace.
Not even one Crucio.
Harry's result came up with five.
It wasn't that Remus wasn't relieved that Hermione hadn't been harmed. He was. But it was just too suspicious.
Remus would have never paid attention to the ring on Hermione's finger had his inner wolf not shuddered in pleasure when he accidently touched it while checking over Hermione's unconscious body.
The ring oozed Dark Magic to someone with his 'condition'.
After pondering over what the ring was doing on Hermione's finger, Remus cast a Recognition spell on the golden band, and then he became really confused.
The Recognition spell told him that the ring was enchanted with Vinculum Magica—one of the magic- binding spells that created a bond between the caster and the wearer of the ring.
Such bonds were magically sealed, and there was nothing that could break them.
Only the one who put the ring on the finger could remove it.
Nowadays, such forms of binding magic were used very rarely not only because of its ultimate binding quality, but also because of the consequences that would befall on the one wearing such ring in case of failure.
There were different consequences, but the most brutal one was the loss of magic in favor of the castor.
It greatly concerned Remus.
It could only be Voldemort himself who had bound Hermione's magic and Remus did not like not knowing why.
What did Voldemort want with Hermione?
He needed to do some research, but as far as he could remember—and memory was not his weak point—there were five known binding bonds in the Wizarding and their appropriate colors always indicated just what type of a bond it was.
Red for a Marriage, blue for a Mentorship, green for a Spiritual illumination, yellow was the color of a Protector, and black for a Sex-slave bond.
And Hermione had purple.
Bright, shining purple.
It wasn't normal.
Xxx
Through the fog of unconsciousness, Hermione could hear familiar voices argue.
"The Horcrux needs to be destroyed!" A booming angry male voice.
Kingsley.
"You will not touch Harry!" A high and desperate feminine voice.
Ginny.
"Voldemort has to be the one to kill the Horcrux!" A gentler male voice.
Mr. Weasley.
"We won't know what happened until at least one of them returns to consciousness!" Also angry but this one with an additional snarl.
Lupin.
Must be close to the full moon.
Hermione opened her eyes and looked around.
There were so many people in the room, everyone arguing and agitated.
They still don't know.
And for a second, Hermione wanted to lie, to just not say, to keep quiet.
Mr. Weasley's words were still ringing in her ears.
Hermione still did not understand just how she had survived the Killing Curse.
Was it because the Killing Curse divided between her and Harry?
Or because Harry pushed her back, forming some kind of protection around them?
And how did the Horcrux end up in her?
It all was a big mess in her head, and Hermione wished for just a few minutes alone.
Now, when she and Harry were back, Hermione needed to think. And read up.
But first, she needed to tell everything. She wouldn't lie.
If she couldn't trust the Weasleys and the Order, then whom could she trust?
xxx
Ginny was sitting in the kitchen with the rest of the Order, and not for the first time since hearing Hermione's story, she was thinking why.
Why did everything have to go so wrong?
As Hermione got to the point where she explained what Voldemort demanded from her in return to spare them, Ginny did not know what she felt. She wanted to scream.
Hermione was now Voldemort's charge with a piece of his soul—his nasty, disgusting soul—inside of her head. And that piece of shit could control her.
And Hermione was now going to magical University.
Ginny seriously did not know what to think.
On one hand, she wanted the Horcrux destroyed.
On the other, Ginny didn't want Hermione to die.
It was too complicated.
Her red, swollen eyes were watching every movement of Hermione's right hand, and the golden ring reflected from time to time the light rays of the evening sun from outside.
Where would Voldemort send Hermione to?
Just what kind of a dark, gloomy hole it could be?
Ginny had always wanted to go to University, but she knew that it was an impossible dream.
Magical Universities were notoriously expensive and closed-off. In total, Ginny could come up with maybe twelve universities in the whole magical world. There weren't many, and it was almost impossible to get accepted, the money issue aside.
Normally, it took two years to finish the education and become a Master of chosen Arts.
Ginny didn't think she'd want to swap places with Hermione, for she didn't even doubt just what type of Arts Hermione would be learning.
Voldemort was so predictable.
xxx
Hermione finished her story with a deep sense of self-hatred.
When she had said everything out loud, it sounded even worse than before.
Before Hermione could ponder on the fact that everyone was silent, her mind exploded with pain.
There were hands, trying to help; there were voices that sounded very concerned; but Hermione heard and felt nothing but pain, this horrible, burning pain that was now completely taking over her body.
The barrier was down, and before pain overwhelmed her senses, Hermione thought just what had the Dark Lord done now.
She screamed.
xxx
He was a patient man, he told himself for the tenth time, slowly turning the pages of an old tome.
He could wait.
He didn't have to do it now.
He would wait.
Suddenly slamming the book on the table, the Dark Lord got up from his comfortable chair and Apparated away.
He couldn't wait. He wanted it now.
xxx
Checking—for what seemed to be hundredth time—his immaculate spell work, Lord Voldemort circled around the golden bowl filled with human blood that he had previously put on the altar.
It had taken him almost a whole day to gather the ingredients—some unknown Mudbloods were feeling very generous today—and create this immense structure of the blackest Dark Magic he knew.
And that was saying something.
It was a risk, an unnecessary risk, and Lord Voldemort had to remind himself—not for the first time—just why was he risking so much.
He certainly didn't need this gamble now; everything was finally running smoothly.
He had everything he had ever wanted.
And still, he found himself in this Merlin forgotten cave with a basin full of blood taken only from the heart—he hadn't even given a thought, not like he cared for those whose hearts he had to rip out—and enormously magic-demanding, complicatedly structured rune.
He found the ritual in two separate Dark Arts tomes. He had read about it before, but he hadn't paid this particular ritual much attention.
He used to think that such ritual was an insane fantasy that had somehow found its place in between some really useful rites.
He used to think that it was just some art of madness.
And now he was the madman who would try to summon Death.
The books indicated that even if you had all three Deathly Hallows in your possession, it would still not grant you immortality or before unseen power, that it only meant that you accepted your mortality or some similar worthless sentiment. And that made you the Master of Death.
Now that was a children story.
The real story was hidden in the most obscure Dark Arts books he owned.
Voldemort had tried many spells with the Elder Wand and while the spells came out with more power, he still preferred his old wand. Not that much difference.
The Elder Wand would betray its master without a second thought, and he had no need for the Resurrection Stone—who would he be looking at? Dumbledore?—or the Invisibility Cloak—who would he be hiding from? Himself?—and that is why he decided to try.
The books explained that if one wished to become a real Master of Death, one needed to return the Hallows to its rightful owner- the Death itself.
While Voldemort would have loved to think it all over one more time—just to be sure—he was too greedy, he wanted it all and he wanted it now.
So, he was now planning on returning all three Deathly Hallows and in return, he would get true immortality.
It was worth the risk.
His oversight with the now destroyed Horcruxes had shown him that even with so many pieces of his soul hidden all around Europe—he should have hidden them somewhere is Asia—he wasn't safe.
Soaking the Cloak—it interested him the least—Voldemort kept a tight grip on his yew wand and prepared himself.
In case this whole adventure turned to be a disaster of apocalyptic proportions, he would still have his two Horcruxes.
He'd use the Mudblood then.
Taking a deep breath, Lord Voldemort dropped the Resurrection stone into the goblet and the blood inside the basin started to boil. Slowly, he added the Elder Wand and took a step back.
"Exorior."
The blood started to surge from the goblet, as if it were a fountain, and soon, the whole floor was soaked in dark red liquid. And it kept coming and coming, the cup now seemingly having no bottom.
Voldemort raised his wand when the blood from the floor suddenly formed a figure.
"Your magic is useless against me, mortal." The figure resembled a Dementor, and its voice was so bone-chilling that Voldemort almost shuddered.
Shit.
He had summoned Death and he was defenseless, like a pathetic Muggle.
Voldemort would have mentally given himself a T for Troll—like that amusing Mudblood—but now was not the time for such dramatics.
He had never had anything else than Outstanding and he wasn't going to drop his standards.
This was going to be an "O".
He couldn't have made a mistake.
"I return you what is Yours." His voice was calm but sure.
The figure—Death!—drifted towards the cup and its bony hand peeked out from the enormous sleeve as it picked up all the Deathly Hallows with one hand now fully soaked in blood.
The figure seemed to pause before opening its mouth like a serpent and swallowing all three Hallows.
It was creepy even by Voldemort's standards.
And that was saying something.
"Then I shall return what is yours."
Wait a minute…
That wasn't in the books…
Just what kind of hole did he dig up for himself now?
With disbelieving eyes, he saw something rise from the cup.
The fuck?!
He was against cursing—he wasn't some common riffraff—but that was the only word that came to his mind as he watched the blood rise from the cup and form a small, illuminated ball.
And then one more.
And more.
And more.
And then they were all flying towards him now.
Voldemort raised his wand, demanding his magic to act, when the first ball entered his chest.
Before everything went white with pain, he heard Death's bone-chilling voice again.
"Unless you call for me, we shall never meet again."
And then, there was pain.
He screamed.
xxx
After what seemed like an eternity, the pain subdued, and Lord Voldemort managed to pull himself up from the stone floor.
The first thing he noticed was that his magic was now raving, and he had never felt so powerful before.
The second thing he noticed was his hand.
With inhumanly fast wand movement, he transformed a stone into a mirror.
Looking at his reflection, Lord Voldemort brought one of his hands closer to his face and touched it.
It was real.
Well, well, well …
What did he say about his performance?
Outstanding.
xxx
Two days later.
Hermione rubbed her tired eyes and closed the book she was currently reading.
She had been reading all the time, with almost no sleep and only taking a break to visit Ron and Harry. Her usually collected mind was a mess now.
The last two days had been hard to say the least.
After rolling on the kitchen floor in pain, she was brought upstairs into what used to be her and Ginny's room.
Hermione still had no clue what Voldemort had done to cause her—him—such pain, but whatever it was, she was sure as hell he didn't cut himself while shaving.
She had been experiencing triumph and almost euphoria the last day and it was driving her mad. After the barrier had fallen, she had felt such a range of emotions that Hermione could only describe its scale and intensity by calling it a rainbow.
Voldemort was like a rainbow- from red to violet, from triumph to fear- in a matter of seconds.
The Horcrux kept quiet and Hermione wondered if he had heard her ratio.
How would Voldemort react?
Would it be a cold, amused smile and maybe not even a warning, or would it be "Crucio, Miss Granger"?
Tomorrow, she was supposed to return to the Dark Lord's care—she didn't ask for the time!—and she still had no clue how to activate the Portkey.
Everything was even worse that she had expected.
Ron was still in a coma and Madame Pomfrey—the only Mediwitch that would still help them—explained that the patient had to overcome the damage himself. There was nothing they could do, as only an accomplished Legilimens with vast knowledge in the Mind Arts could help push Ron's mind and, therefore, accelerate the recovery.
Had Professors Dumbledore or Snape been alive, Ron would have, most probably, been awake already. The only other Legilimens that could break the wall between Ron's mind and reality was Voldemort.
And Hermione did not want to think what Voldemort would do with Ron's mind.
Harry was semi-conscious, drifting between two worlds; Ginny was constantly by his side with Professor Lupin.
And with most members of the Order killed—only Kingsley, Lupin, Tonks and the Weasleys remained—there was not much they could do.
It was worse than she had ever imagined.
Putting the book on the empty bed—Ginny now slept in Ron's room, on a couch—Hermione tried to squash the hurt she was feeling.
Ever since she had told the Order everything she knew—and especially after the whole floor-rolling episode—everyone kept their distance.
As if I have plague.
Straightening her normal clothes—the new robes were hanging in the closet—Hermione did her best to collect herself and opened the door.
It was dinner time.
xxx
Slowly chewing the meatloaf, Hermione looked around the table.
All Weasleys—except Ron and Fred—were present, as well as Lupin with Tonks and Kinglsey—the whole Order.
There were no words spoken about Voldemort or the Order's current plans—for reasons Hermione had to bitterly accept. Instead, everyone was engaged in a heated debate that concerned her further education.
Remus had spoken to her yesterday and he had expressed his concerns regarding her new ring and the bond behind it.
He also explained that unless she wanted to become Voldemort's magical slave, or lose her magic completely, she had to attend whatever University the Dark Lord had chosen.
And now, they were all discussing her probable Alma Mater.
"It could be anything." Ginny was now looking at Hermione with eyes full of compassion.
"It's most probably Fenriswolf or Manasa." Percy was twirling his fork, not looking at Hermione at all.
A German University that specialized in Dark Arts or an Indian University that was famous for its Necromancers.
Wonderful.
"It could be the Russian Holod. They also have very heavy Dark Arts roots." Tonks looked at Hermione with pity written all over her pale face.
A hellhole, in other words.
It seemed that no matter what university it would be, she'd end up studying Arts she hated.
Did she mention she hated her life?
"What if it's one of the Triangulum Universities?"
The silence that followed Remus' pensive question was defeating.
There were three universities in the magical world that formed a so-called elite triangle—one in Sweden, one in Italy, and one in China; they were all considered Grey Universities, as they had faculties for both Dark and Light Magic.
And they were the best.
Hermione hadn't even considered such a possibility when she did her research with the help of Mr. Weasley and Fleur.
Her doubts were cemented when Ginny's disbelieving voice cut through the silence.
"Triangulum? Why would You-Know-Who send Hermione to one of the Triangulum Universities? He hates her!"
Taking a deep gulp from her goblet, Ginny continued voicing her opinion.
"Zhi-Shang charges over ten thousand galleon per year, Kungliga Högskolan is over twenty thousand galleon per year and don't get me started on Illuminus! There is just no way that You-Know-Who would spend so much money on Hermione's education," Ginny finished with a humph before catching Hermione's crestfallen expression. "I would be so happy for you, Hermione, but it's just not possible," Ginny finished with an apologizing note to her tone.
Ginny's brown warm eyes told Hermione that she had a good friend who would gladly listen to her.
In another life, Hermione would have given everything to attend any of the three mentioned Alma Maters, but now she could only dream.
She'd end up in some dirty, ominous hole.
Just like she rightfully deserved.
The dinner was interrupted by a grey owl that swiftly flew in through the opened window and dropped a letter in Hermione's hands before just as quickly flying away.
With her heart in her throat, Hermione looked at the letter.
The envelope was white and the word "Enjoy" was written in a cursive, but very elegant script that Hermione hadn't recognized.
Ginny's gasp of horror—she recognized the handwriting!—broke the silence and Hermione did not need any other indication of who was the sender.
Her destiny lay now in her hands, in the unopened envelope and Hermione was too scared to open it.
She'd prefer to guess some more.
"Hermione."
Lupin.
"You have to open it, Hermione. Not knowing will not make it any easier," Remus said with compassionate amber eyes.
Everyone around the table looked at her with pity and Hermione wanted to cry.
I want my mom!
"I am afraid," Hermione confessed quietly, not sure if her voice would listen to her.
"We know, dear. We are here for you." Molly got up from her seat and came closer to Hermione, half hugging her, letting her know she was not alone.
Looking up at Molly's sad but determined face, Hermione took a deep breath and nodded slowly before opening the seal.
With shivering hands holding the light blue paper and disbelieving eyes roaming over the parchment, Hermione started to read.
x
Dear Ms. Granger,
You have been accepted into the Illuminus University of Magic.
The semester begins on May the 11th and we would like for you to arrive one day prior to finish your accommodation before the studies begin.
All magical and official procedures have been completed and magically signed by your Guardian.
The tuition fee as well as an additional fee for your accommodation have already been transferred.
Enclosed is the list of necessary books and equipment.
You will find your study specifications at the end of the letter.
You must attend all Approved Arts courses.
The Arts that are Not Approved will not be part of your curriculum.
Looking forwards to having you as our student,
Dorius Darmus,
Headmaster of Illuminus University of Magic
Magical Venice, Italy
x
Too shocked to breathe, Hermione quickly looked at the end of the letter.
It's not possible.
There, she saw the rest of information and she wanted to cry.
x
University : Illuminus University of Magic
University Qualification: Triangulum University, First Rank
Tuition fee: 25,000 galleon per semester; 50,000 galleon per year
Location: Magical Venice, Italy
Faculty:Spell Creation
Mastery: Spells Architect
Arts Approved: Archimancy, Ancient Runes, Charms, Transfiguration, Mind Arts, Potions, Astronomy
Arts Not Approved: Divination, Magical Law, Dark Arts
Please note that Approved/Not approved depends only on the wishes of your Guardian.
Accommodation: deluxe apartment for 1 person, Magical Venice, Italy.
Accommodation fee: 3,000 galleon per semester
Illuminus University of Magic wishes you a great day!
Mouth dry and heart beating so fast that Hermione thought that if she leaned closer to the table it would start vibrating, she looked up at the shocked face of Molly Weasley who was now staring at the letter.
"What is it?" Ginny was the fastest, but Hermione could see that everyone around the table wanted to know just where Voldemort would send her.
Everyone felt sorry for her.
Why would he do this?
The letter was gently removed from her shivering fingers and Hermione watched everyone present hurl over as they read it.
What was she missing?
Just what game was Voldemort playing at?
Hermione wanted to say that it was a joke, but then she had to close her mouth before she could make it any worse.
She was terrified of what she saw when everyone looked at her.
Doubt.
How could they doubt me?
Distrust.
If you cannot trust me, then whom can you trust?!
Hermione tried to write off their distrust and doubt on the Horcrux, but there was something else in their gazes and facial expressions that held her gaze even if she wanted to look away and just not have to see it.
Envy.
No …
I didn't know!
I don't know why! Hermione wanted to scream in her defense, but she thought she knew why.
She was his Horcrux.
Voldemort had told her himself that she was just his Horcrux's vessel and one did not spend so much money on the vessel.
What Lupin had told her about the ring had been confirmed by numerous books and Hermione had no intention in becoming a Squib. Voldemort wasn't demanding anything extraordinary nor was he telling her to torture someone. He wasn't doing anything bad.
And that was frightening.
She felt peculiar.
Did he really tell the truth?
She needed to crack this puzzle—the whats, the whys and the hows.
"What games is You-Know-Who playing at? " Ginny was standing with her hands on her hips and her lips were pursed.
Hermione saw Ginny look around before coming closer and laying a hand on her shoulder.
"You-Know-Who is trying to make you look bad, Hermione. He wants us to think that you have made some sort of a deal with him. It won't work." Ginny's eyes were sympathetic and Hermione found herself fighting her tears that demanded to be released.
Clasping a hand over her trembling lips, Hermione got up from the chair and quickly ran upstairs.
Now she knew why.
He was a monster.
xxx
It was past midnight and Hermione was sitting on the brim of a very sharp-looking cliff, with whirlpool waves crashing on its piercing edges just below her feet.
Before Hermione could drown in her despair and hurt inside her bedroom, she was pulled by her navel and was Apparated away. She didn't know where she was, but wherever she was, she was alone.
There was not much space on the cliff and no places were available as a hideout. She was on a cliff in the middle of a raging ocean and she was alone.
The feeling was peculiar—it was incredibly frightening to be so near the danger, but it was so liberating to just sit here and watch.
Observe and think.
The warming charms held her warm and the newly-Transfigured hood protected her head from the brutal winds but did not block the mesmerizing view.
Hermione had never seen anything like that before.
It was-
"Magical," a serpentine voice offered from just behind her ear, and Hermione found herself unintentionally jumping up and losing her balance.
The ocean was even more furious than before, and Hermione had to wonder why the surface wasn't approaching when she felt the additional weight around her middle.
She was tightly held from behind and she could not feel the cliff under her feet anymore, Hermione realized with fear quickly spreading all over her body.
The Dark Lord was holding her with one hand over the deep abyss and all Hermione could see were the clashing waves hunting each other in an endless circle.
Her heart was in her heels and she could feel the fear take over completely.
She was terrified.
Hermione didn't know what was worse—the black abyss or the strong hand around her waist in a death grip.
"There is nothing to be afraid of, if you know what separates you from them." Voldemort's voice was quiet and silky, and Hermione shivered—from fear, from the close proximity, and from the truth that she didn't know what.
Did he mean the waves or …
His hand was the only thing that held her from falling into the now boiling water, and Hermione doubted that the Dark Lord would accept such answer.
Suddenly, the water surface smoothed over and the moon's perfect reflection on the now glassy surface took her breath away.
Hermione forgot all about the hand around her waist and the problems of her complicated life and just watched in awe and reverence as the water crystalized and hardened.
"Being special is not a sin. It's a sin not to be."
Hermione wanted to reply that she wasn't special when the ocean of crystals began to burn. The waters boiled and Hermione could feel the heat of the rising inferno that was quickly spreading its wild, bright red tentacles—like an Octopus rubescens!—absorbing the crystals with unimaginable ease and turning them into pure fire.
"If you are afraid to fly, you fall."
The inferno suddenly disappeared and Hermione saw an enormous hole where the water—and later fire—used to be.
It was insanity!
A distant whistling sound made Hermione look up and her heart stopped.
The waves were now back and they were curling above their heads—in the air!—and Hermione unintentionally leaned closer to the body behind her before remembering who exactly it was and recoiling quickly.
Voldemort was behind her, the abyss in front and below her, and the water masses above.
She was trapped.
"Maybe, I am not meant to fly," Hermione whispered with frozen lips, panic suffocating her mind.
There was nowhere to go.
The hand tightened its hold, gripping her almost painfully before suddenly pushing her forwards.
"Then you fall."
Hermione screamed.
She was falling.
xxx
The hole's endless bottom was quickly approaching and Hermione thought that those were her last seconds. She was going to crash to death because Voldemort had actually pushed her off the cliff and into the abyss—Horcrux or no Horcrux—just like he had said.
Looking at the approaching rocky ground, Hermione closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall.
There was nothing she could do.
Hermione's eyes snapped open when she remembered about the wand in her hand.
She had her magic!
And then she was floating, looking down at the ground with yet another tight hold around her middle.
He was flying without a broom!
She was in the air without a broom!
Hermione had to remind herself how to breathe when the words were whispered into her mind.
'What separates you from them?'
Hermione understood that if she answered incorrectly—or refused to answer—she would be dropped and her wand would not help her.
This was a special lesson the Dark Lord was teaching her and if she failed to learn, he would get rid of her.
'Magic.'
Hermione heard—felt—the Dark Lord chuckle.
"Are you meant to fly now?"
She licked her dry lips before whispering in her mind.
'Yes.'
The water started to returned to the ocean and Voldemort soared into the night sky before Apparating in the air.
xxx
Hermione landed on her ass and cried from the hard impact.
Ouch!
Looking around, she saw that she was in her room in the Burrow—alone!—and for a second, Hermione thought that she had simply passed out—it was her imagination!—but the pain in her bottom and the fresh smell of ocean that still lingered on her clothes, reminded her that it hadn't been a dream.
Oh my god!
Still speechless, Hermione felt a presence in her mind whisper "Six o'clock" before fully withdrawing and leaving her head.
The barrier suddenly became visible, and Hermione, still shocked—each time she thought that Voldemort could not shock her more and each time he proved her wrong—had to admit she hadn't even noticed when the Dark Lord had cast the spell.
On shaking legs, Hermione got up and fell onto her bed.
Her mind was going to turn off now from the pure shock of today's events.
Holding her wand in her hand—just in case—Hermione closed her eyes and begged for sleep to come.
Her mind needed the rest.
That night, she dreamt of a raging inferno, the crashing waves, the bottomless abyss, and the hand holding her from falling.
And in her dream, she wasn't afraid.
xxx
AN: Well, do you like Voldemort's choice for Hermione? :)
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Two Steps From Hell