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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 37648 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory

Never forget your secret is safe with me

Just look at all the wonderful people

Trying to forget they have to pay for what you see

It's a dream

With a nightmare stuck in the middle

But where would you be

Without all of that attention

You'd die

I'd die

We'd die wouldn't we?

George Michael, Star People

Chapter nine

Lord Voldemort growls as he sees the shock wave of raw magic approach his position. He moves his hand up into the air and concentrates his magic on halting the destructive force. The girl escaped. It is the only explanation. None of his idiotic followers are even remotely capable of tossing something like that around. Nor will they have the knowledge on how to do so. The impact he is expecting comes quickly and the amount of force behind it does not disappoint him. Too bad for her, it is mostly unfocused and unguided; otherwise he may have experienced some difficulty in halting it.

'She definitely needs to improve her skills,' he thinks, grinning.

His initial thought upon seeing the shock wave was to simply diminish and remove the magic from the air, but upon feeling it he changes his mind. There is a strange familiarity in the magic. A simple wave of his hand and the magical properties of the wave shift to his favour. It is remarkably easy to transfigure, but he does not linger on this thought. He is Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard that ever walked the face of this earth. Naturally, he will be able to convert the magic into his own. He adds a more specific target into the focus of the wave. After all, there really is no point in destroying the entire village, when he is only aiming for Granger.

'Let's see how well you fair with this one,' he mutters, and with a casual gesture of his hand, the wave moves back toward the original caster.

And he folds his arms over each other and watches with glee as the magic roars down the streets of Hogsmeade village, knocking everyone unconscious that comes in contact with it. He clicks several times with his tongue disapprovingly and shakes his head, when the wave reaches the boundaries of Hogsmeade and ceases its roaring without having been compromised once. He has to admit it somewhat disappoints him. He was expecting her to at least be able to put a minor dent into his magic. Sure, she isn't going to be able to stop his kind of power, but he was counting on her trying and giving up her position when she did that. Now, he has to go look for her among all the other bodies. A most boring and dreadful task. Something not worthy of him doing at all, but since he knocked out all his servants as well, he has little choice.

He stalks into the street and flips out his wand. And as he glides past the bodies he begins to regret sending the blasted wave back at her more and more. If she was still standing upright instead of lying unconscious on the ground, he could use magic to locate her. But as long as she is out cold, she won't be triggering any magical signs for him to pick up on. He flips over another body and sees it is Goyle.

'Moron,' he mutters.

But as he walks on and checks more and more people without finding Granger he begins to feel slightly apprehensive. She couldn't have found a way to escape through the wave, could she? No, he knows that is impossible. He would have detected her going through the magic if she had, but then… where the hell is she?

He stands at the end of the street, looking back into it, contemplating on how she eluded him, again. He narrows his eyes and thinks about what he would have done in her place. Find some shelter. But where? The buildings would not have provided her... Underground! Clever girl, but not clever enough. He aims his wand at the ground, when…

BANG!

Earth and some debris, that covered Hermione's hideout, fly through the air in the middle of the street. Voldemort snorts as he sees Granger crawl out of her shelter in quite a distressed state of mind.

'Frightened, my dear?' he thinks, amused.

It amuses him that she picked his company over staying hidden in relative safety. 'But I did not give you permission to come out of there,' he whispers.

And he hurtles a Burying Jinx towards her, but to his surprise it soars over her head. 'I'm getting sloppy,' he concludes, irritated.

But he smirks broadly when he notices Granger is now staring at him and she is obviously regretting her rather rash decision. Not that she would have been safe underneath the ground any longer anyway, but it is rather kind of her to recall that he is a lot more frightening than some personally dug grave. And since she has the presence of mind to remember that, he doesn't feel the need to bury her alive again. However, a little pain is appropriate. He slashes his wand and the purple jet leaves. To his immense satisfaction Granger is too frightened to even move, but his pleasure fades when that curse also misses and destroys the potted plant next to her. What is wrong with him?

The blast seems to pull Granger out of her stupor and he sees that she actually has the nerve to cast a curse in his direction. How did she obtain a wand? He swears he will find out who the idiot was that lost his wand to her and they can watch how he will snap it to pieces and toss them out on the street to live like muggle filth. Granger's curse is approaching him, but he simply Disapparates from his position and Apparates back right in front of her. He will show her, trying to curse him.

'Sectumsempra!' he casts.

The bricks fly across the sky as his curse hits the wall of the building behind Granger and he tilts his head and narrows his eyes. Something strange is going on here and a couple of Yoda's words come back to mind, while he is staring into the girl's eyes.

'You seem very eager to contradict my harmless statement. You haven't been able too, have you? … It will make you understand as to why some things happen, Tom. … Magic has many qualities and aspects you fail to perceive. It is why you lost control of the Imperius Curse and it is why you will continue to lose out to Miss Granger.'

Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers, the snort that escapes Hermione's mouth, the casting of the curse and her running indoors, but he is still too occupied with Yoda's remarks and his third miss in a row. He has to find out what is causing these anomalies. The jet of green soars past him, and he blinks. What does she think she is doing? He hears the violent impact of the curse behind him and he swirls around to stare at the building that is partially blown away. His head turns back to the house Granger just ran into. Did that little witch just cast The Unforgivable Curse? At him?

His eyes fall back on the amount of destruction of the building behind him. The damage is too big for an ordinary misfired curse. And he knows she did not cast a Blasting Charm, because they sure as hell aren't green. He knows he ought to rejoice at the fact that she even cast the Unforgivable. Yoda will be so disappointed. But she cast the bloody curse at him. Him! His temper rises tremendously and he blows the building before him out of the way. If she is in there, then she certainly won't escape this blast intact.

Voldemort smiles satisfied as he sees the building being torn to pieces before his very eyes and Granger is being taken for a ride along with the rest of the debris. She has the conscience of mind to cast a Shield Charm, so she'll live. She crashes into the Shrieking Shack and plummets to the ground. The Shack! He Apparates in front of her and notices to his utter delight that she has definitely hurt herself in her little flight and landing over here. He decides to disarm her. Maybe a relatively harmless spell will not miss.

'Expelliarmus,' Voldemort casts.

'Protego,' replies Hermione in reflex.

The spells hit dead on and die out. He scowls and notices Granger is also utterly astonished by what just happened.

'Fine, I'll just grab her the muggle way,' he thinks and paces toward her, when…

'Crack,' she Disapparates out of there.

Voldemort stares at the empty spot that Hermione Granger only moments ago vacated and he is reminded once again that he does not like losing one bit. No, that is an understatement. He hates losing. Lord Voldemort does not lose! Never! It is quite erroneous to think otherwise. And he blasts the Shrieking Shack to Kingdom Come as if it is the haunted shack's fault Granger Disapparated. He hopes she has gotten herself Splinched so badly that they will find pieces of her all over England. That … that … annoying pest of a woman has escaped him again. It is becoming a bloody theme song. Well, she can't have gone far in the condition she is in.

It's when he realises the Nation Wide Wards are down. He gave the order to lower them after he had gotten a hold of the girl. They need to raise them immediately. Before she recovers from her injuries and is capable of Apparating abroad again. He Apparates straight into the Ministry and orders the shocked wizard that is on Ward Duty to stop all International Magical Travel instantaneously until further notice.

'No exceptions!' he furiously shouts, before Apparating back to Hogsmeade.

He looks at the dead silent town. At least there are no witnesses to his little cock up. Everyone is still unconscious due to the impact they sustained with his magic. Good… Now, they will think they are responsible for the escape, which they are of course. And he stalks past the lot of them to go back to Hogwarts. They'll wake, eventually. It's not like he cares. If they all catch pneumonia lying here in this stinking British weather then that serves them right for failing him.

He enters the castle in the middle of rush hour. The students are all walking the corridors to get to their next lesson. Titchy, little midgets. But they have the good sense to get out of his way, unlike Malfoy who throws himself on the floor before him. What is that man doing? Is he just begging to get Crucio-ed or what?

'Master, Master,' Lucius grovels, 'there were large explosions coming from Hogsmeade village.'

'Really, Lucius? I hadn't noticed,' Voldemort sneers sarcastically.

A small whimper escapes Malfoy's mouth and Voldemort notices that Lucius is thoroughly frightened. Not that that is unusual, but in this case it is more extreme than normally. And when it comes down to Lucius, that is saying something. He smirks.

'Yes, Lucius. I have already noticed Granger escaped, while I left you in charge,' he thinks, relishing in the man's fear of him.

However, the imbecile is not providing him with any information at all and instead is merely halting him by kissing the hem of his robe. Too afraid to tell his Master what has transpired. Too afraid to tell him he failed. Clinging on to every last shred of hope, no doubt, that maybe he hasn't found out Granger is gone, yet. The man should have been too afraid to go anywhere near him. That would have been far more preferable than this obnoxious interruption of his time.

'Have the good sense to get out of my way immediately, Malfoy. You're wasting my valuable time,' he says positively ticked off about now, and he kicks Lucius aside, before pacing to his quarters.

Voldemort strides to the room, he held Granger prisoner in. He needs to confirm his suspicions that she hadn't gotten out on her own. When he sees the door is still in place and so are the rest of his charms, he knows he is right. She had help. Someone betrayed him. If Granger would have gotten out on her own merit, there would be significant damage to the ward surrounding her room and to the door, no doubt, but everything appears fine. He opens the door to check whether some fool was overpowered by the girl and is lying bound and gagged on the floor, but the room is empty and intact. One of his followers has betrayed him and there aren't many options, since he doesn't allow access to his quarters to everyone. He walks into his living room, contemplating on the short list of people he needs to question, when he hears a low scraping noise coming from the dining room.

Lord Voldemort opens the door and takes in the scene before his very eyes. Narcissa Malfoy is sitting in one of the dining room chairs with an air of superiority and triumph. Like the chair is a thrown and she is on top of the world. Yes, that is the only way to describe the woman's foolish posture. Her legs are crossed over each other, her arm is resting on the back of the chair and her hand is tapping with her wand on the table. He is watching it with a degrading expression on his face. Does she plan to duel him? A smirk crosses his face for he finds that thought incredibly amusing. Narcissa replies with an all-knowing, victorious smile, like she has one up on him.

So it seems he doesn't have to go looking for Granger's little helper after all. This certainly is a surprise, though he guesses he should have seen it coming. That blasted Black family has caused him nothing but trouble in the past. Well, apart from Bella that is. The only decent one of the lot. Still, it is accommodating of Narcissa to remain behind and face his wrath. Perhaps she thinks he will just kill her quickly if she doesn't flee. Big mistake, Malfoy. He is about to break the tense silence between them, when Narcissa speaks.

'No Granger?' she tauntingly says and sheer glee spreads across her features.

Voldemort blatantly stares at her gleeful expression. His face remains blank and emotionless, though inside of him a storm is beginning to take shape. That woman will suffer severely.

'I saw the explosions in Hogsmeade, but I don't see the girl.' Narcissa tilts her head to the side and mockingly pretends to search for Granger behind him. 'Did she beat you? Again?'

She is not even making an effort to hide her amusement at his failure. Yes, he most definitely is going to enjoy hearing her scream, crawl and beg for mercy. He folds his arms over each other, not caring about her holding a wand for a moment, and he merely gazes at her, edging her on. She dares to continue. Isn't she supposed to be a Slytherin?

'But I suppose it was your usual arrogant, overbearing, stupid overestimation of your own skills that enabled her to escape you. Again,' she emphasises jeering.

His hand twitches, but he holds his temper in check. She is rather chatty at the moment and he can always torture her for her insolence later on. He walks to the window not taking his eyes of the woman for a moment and he smiles, intending to throw her off balance.

'Hermione may have gotten away at the moment, but she is severely injured. I'm afraid you botched up her escape, Narcissa. As is your usual M.O. of doing things,' he adds.

Voldemort tilts his head and watches her demeaning. With pleasure he notices the slight shift of discomfort in Narcissa's eyes. They all search for his approval, his acknowledgement of their skills. Even now, when she must know she is inches away from experiencing the most excruciating pain she has ever felt in her life, she is still seeking recognition. He snorts superior.

'It will not be long before I capture the girl again. I know where she is.'

'Really?' Narcissa says disbelieving. 'Then, why isn't she here, being chained up and all?'

Voldemort gives her a condescending glance. 'I have my reasons. None of which concern you.'

He is not going to allow this measly woman to die thinking she beat him. He can already see the doubt beginning to form. Just a little nudge that's all she needs.

'I owe you a debt of gratitude, Malfoy. I had no idea how to let Granger escape without her getting suspicious at her ability to do so. She is rather clever, that little Mudblood. So thank you for outing your wavering loyalties and assisting me in obtaining my objectives, all at the same time.'

His high-pitched laugh roars to the dining room. Now, the doubt is eminently present in the wretched woman's eyes. Wonderful.

'You're lying,' she whispers, desperate.

Trying to convince herself no doubt. 'Feel free to delude yourself,' he replies, smirking.

This really is enjoyable. It is such a nice change from his otherwise almost mechanical, boring routine. He wonders how long it will take to push her over the edge.

'So I'm afraid your little vengeance has gone astray,' he says wickedly, and he grins widely while leaning against the windowsill.

'No, no,' she mutters and she is shaking her head despairingly, denying the thought, that she somehow assisted him, to enter her mind.

'You must remember it, don't you?' Voldemort softly says. 'The way your son screamed and twitched on the floor, before he died. It didn't take long, did it? I tortured that Weasley boy for days before he cracked, but Draco never was much of a fighter, was he? A pathetic specimen, that son of yours. I suppose …'

'Avada Kedavra!' yells Narcissa.

But Voldemort is far too fast for her. He lashes his wand and diverts the curse away in a blink of an eye, before casting his own.

'Crucio!'

And while the woman is screaming on the floor, he watches the destruction of the wall he diverted the curse too. That is the second time today someone has cast the Killing Curse toward him. What are those godforsaken bitches thinking? That he is going to die? Before them? Ridiculous. The high pitch voltage of the screams is beginning to torture his eardrums. Really, doesn't that woman have some restraint? He isn't even making an effort.

'Silencio,' he lazily adds.

And it becomes heavenly silent, though she is still trashing and writhing on the floor. At least, he can hear himself think now. He savours the moment. It is when inspiration strikes. He has read about it! Those magical anomalies he encountered with Granger. He remembers reading something similar somewhere a long time ago. It's at the tip of his tongue, but he just can't reach it. Ah well, he can always go through his library when he is done here. The answer most certainly must be there, even if he is uncertain in which book it is written down. He will find it. He always does.

Voldemort looks down again. What to do with the old besom? She is already beginning to diminish in her movements. Perhaps the boy took after his mother, but he shakes the thought immediately. His father is equally weak and despicable.

'Accio wand,' he casually casts, before lifting the Cruciatus Curse.

No point in her escaping into insanity. He is no such fool as Bella, who never can control herself while performing the Cruciatus Curse. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards as he sees Malfoy glare at him, angry and frightened at the same time. She is still panting and perspiring from the experience. He snaps her wand in two and tosses it on the floor before her shivering body in order to humiliate her.

'Get up,' he spats.

She scrambles to her feet, while he stalks around her, like a predator monitoring its prey before striking. It's time to really make her pay. That curse, the one he planned to use on Granger and that killed Murdoch. He can check whether the man died due to his age, but he casts the thought aside after careful consideration. Maybe later, if age isn't the deciding factor then Narcissa will get off too easily. Too bad torturing Lucius before her eyes will probably be received with sheer joy and glee, so that delightful option skips away to safety.

Voldemort is no fool. He has seen the interactions between the two and the disdain Narcissa holds for her husband is so overwhelming it sips through every gesture she makes and every word she speaks. Still getting Lucius in here may provide him with some delicious entertainment. He turns and strides away to the door.

'Care for some dinner?'

He halts abruptly. The four words are spoken with much venom and hatred, but it is the victorious undertone that alarms him. It hadn't escaped his attention before that the table was completely set, but he assumed one of the House-elves mixed up the dates. Apparently, he was mistaken. Slowly, he turns around. Narcissa is standing beside the table; her hand is resting on the large, silver dish-cover and she is watching him with clear anticipation. He narrows his eyes. The air suddenly thick with tension, which seems to build up at an amazing speed, as Narcissa continues to speak in a calm manner.

'I hear roasted snake is considered quite a delicacy. However, I don't much care for the disgusting, extra ingredient in this one,' and she lifts the dish-cover steadily, revealing a very dead and thoroughly cooked Nagini.

He doesn't even notice the furious and despairingly scream that leaves his lips as he casts the Killing Curse on mere reflex alone and Narcissa plummets to the ground for the last time with a permanent, triumphant expression plastered on her face. She had resigned herself with her fate a long time ago.

'Granger,' Voldemort hisses through gritted teeth, while watching the destroyed Horcrux on the table. 'You'll better run far, far away from me, because once I get my hands on you, I will make you pay for this.'

And he swirls out of the dining room. The Amulet of Aine is now an even more pressing matter than before. He is mortal again. Thanks to Hermione Granger, he is mortal again. He knows his traitorous Death Eater did not possess the knowledge that Nagini was a Horcrux. Granger told her. The time for toying around with the blasted girl is over. He stalks into his library to find the text that he knows exist somewhere. The text that will explain his near misses and the strange extinguishing effect they encountered before. Once he finds it … Vengeance will be sweet.

Voldemort is going through his library vigorously. He has his food brought to him there and continues to skip through the leaves at amazing speed. He grabs another Dark Arts Volume from the shelf, but it almost immediately ends up on the large pile on the floor, when he skips through its leaves. That one isn't it either. He knows he will recognise the book once he lays eyes upon it, but so far he hasn't had a single clue as to its identity. He remembers vaguely the description is written down in a rather thick volume, somewhere around one-third into the book's contents. He can practically see the text at the bottom of the page. Unfortunately, nearly all his books are rather thick volumes, so this knowledge doesn't narrow the search down one bit.

The door opens and Lucius enters. 'My Lord, it's been called to my attention that the Oxford University is in uproar. What should I order the Aurors to do about it, Master?'

Another silly question, naturally. Something, his servants should be able to figure out on their own. He really doesn't have time to explain all these trivial things to Malfoy. He needs to solve these Granger issues. He needs the Amulet. He needs to be able to create a new Horcrux and become immortal again.

'Shove off, Malfoy,' he snarls, irritated, 'unless you don't want to remain living and breathing for some time to come any longer.'

He doesn't even lift his eyes to the imbecile once. And Lucius Malfoy hurries away.

'And clean up the mess in the dining room!' Voldemort shouts viciously at Lucius, while tossing another book over his shoulder to the floor. That one isn't it either, but he will find it. He will find it. And when he does, Granger will be sorry she was ever born.
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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory