~*~*Author's Note*~*~
So this is a new story that's been plaguing my mind for ages. I'm enjoying the flow that I have so far and I have a tentative direction but I'm also going to be relying a bit on feedback from my readers in order to figure out whether or not this story is something worth putting my time and effort towards. Which, honestly, I hope you all like it because my brain is LOVING this plot bunny.
At this point in time there's no definitive pairing and honestly whatever pairing comes will be very slow in progressing as romance isn't the goal for this story. I suspect that this might toe the line to some darker aspects but I don't expect that it'll go too far.
Since this is FanFiction, you'll notice that I have taken a few liberties with the Canon story line. Most will stick but a few Canon character deaths will be ignored. If those sorts of liberties are something that you're not fond of then this might very well be where you get off. I'm very sorry to see you go, you might actually like it if you give it a go.
Constructive criticism is always welcome! Critique away! That's how I get to be a better writer!
For those of you who have been reading "Always Darkest Before the Dawn", thank you so much for your patience with me. I have, however, put that story on hiatus. I WILL finish the story unfortunately, at the moment, I'm in the bit of a block currently. Since I was writing that story as a sort of therapeutic outlet it makes the upkeep of it a little difficult. I will get back to it (promise) but it'll be a bit longer before I'm able to circle back to it.
Final note, I try to keep my chapters within the 2k-4k range (wide range, I know). This particular chapter, being the start off, will likely be one of the longer ones. I will do my best to keep the chapters on the longer side.
Anyway, let me know what you think about the new story!
Enjoy!
ABD
The Voice
Chapter One
12 November 1998
The staring was the worst.
What had since become known as The Battle of Hogwarts was six months past. The dead had been laid to rest. The wounded set to heal. The physical damage to both the people and the structures was slowly on the mend. It was the mental damage and the grief of the surviving, however, that was palpable even in the months following the battle. Recovery was slow moving and a painful process but, as time tends to, things were moving forward. The wizarding world of Great Britain was regaining its feet, albeit cautiously and with plenty of fresh mental and physical scarring.
But despite it all, Hermione felt fine. Better than she had felt at any point in recent memory, if she was being honest. Physically, her body was still recovering from the year on the run with high stress and little food but mentally she felt solid. She felt as though she had stood toe to toe with some of the most vile evils that their world had to offer and had not only survived but also grown stronger for it. She'd even come to terms with the loss of her parents with relative ease. A tad melancholy now and again but certainly nothing than could be considered destabilizing. But the starring was the worst and it was starting to wear on her. It was as though they were just waiting for her to crumble. Like they thought she was just trying to put on a brave facade so they wouldn't worry. They were studying her as though they were hoping to find a crack in that facade that they could point to. After all, how could a nineteen year old witch be just fine after so many tumultuous years?
But she was. Fine that is.
She knew what they were saying. The hours that she spent under Bellatrix's care should have left her damaged. Broken. It should have caused damage to her nervous system. It should have damaged her core. It should have left her requiring intensive care at St. Mungo's. But the Healers, try as they might, could find nothing aside from the permanent scarring on her arm. No nerve damage. No brain damage. No damage to her core. She was, as she insisted,-repeatedly, just fine.
So they stared. They watched. Waiting for some sort of delayed reaction. Waiting for that crack to expose itself so they could nod along, pat themselves on the back and confirm their suspicions.
Surely, though, if nothing had shown up over six months out it wasn't going to right?
Was it really too much to ask to be able to try to move past it? She had even gone so far as to pay for scans to be done through a muggle hospital, just to reassure Harry and Ron that she really was alright. The scans had proven what she had been insisting for months.
She was fine. No damage. No nightmares. She wasn't going to lose her mind. She was fine.
Once she got them to believe that, however, a new set of questions arose.
How? Why?
What was it about her makeup that allowed her to come out of the was mentally untouched? What made her so special? It wasn't just coping. She wasn't doing anything additional to support her mental health after the events of the last few years. So what was it about her that left her free of the issues the rest of the world seemed to be facing?
Those questions were precisely how and why she found herself sitting opposite Kingsley Shacklebolt, friend, fellow Order member and Minister of Magic having lunch in his office suite.
She had been fairly surprised to receive his owl requesting a lunch meeting that day. Though, perhaps, she really shouldn't have been. Despite the inevitable topic, it was good to see the older wizard outside of the occasional Order gathering. Ever the well-raised gentleman, Kingsley had greeted her with warm politeness, casually seating her before taking his own, despite his station compared to her own. Conversation had initially flowed warmly and easily between the pair but as the meal began to reach the nature conclusion Hermione watched the tension raise in the shoulders of the man sitting opposite of her. Weariness peaked in her own mind but she mentally vowed to at least hear him out despite the feeling that she wasn't much going to like what was said.
Finally, Kingsley wiped his hands and mouth before setting the napkin on his plate. Settling back into his chair he studied her for a moment before starting his (secretly well rehearsed) pitch.
"The Department of Mysteries coupled with St. Mungo's has asked me to speak with you, Hermione, about the possibility of you working with the Unspeakables and a team of medical researchers from St. Mungo's in order to analyze just why you are unaffected by your experiences during your capture and the recent war as a whole," Kingsley stated, the deep timber of his voice far more soothing than his words. "And if I'm being frank, the Ministry would like to see this happen as well. If there is even a small possibility that you could help those like Frank and Alice Longbottom by using your biological and magical make up to create a sort of immunization then its key to the continuing survival of the Magical Community here and abroad."
"Would I actually be a part of this team or am I simply the Guinea Pig for them to poke and prod until they find what they're looking for?" Hermione asked. While she had nothing against helping she wasn't getting any sort of warmth from the idea. Was it really something that she could willingly submit to? No, her mind said clearly but pleadingly.
Kingsley studied her silently for a moment before sighing heavily and running a hand tiredly over his smooth scalp, "In all honesty, it will likely be a combination of both. You'll be in on the research. You'll know the intentions and the information from both parties. But, should you choose to help it has been requested that the project be contractual and legally, as well as magically, binding for everyone involved. If you choose to enter the agreement you will be obligated to stay the duration of the project, however long that may be. Not just you but everyone involved will be held to the same binding."
"Yeah but I'm the only one that will be poked and prodded, won't I?" Hermione muttered. The contract sunk heavily in her mind causing a ball of unease to build in her stomach. She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. "What, exactly, would this contract entail?"
"It would require non-disclosure until the completion of the project. It would forbid you or any other individual involved from speaking of the research or the program while it is active. It would require that all associated research and information collected belongs to the Department of Mysteries and therefore the Ministry. There is nothing that can be taken as individual intellectual property. That means this research would not be permitted to be used in any other project without permission from the Ministry. And, as stated before, it would require anyone involved to remain on the project until it ends."
"Why the secrecy?" Hermione asked, bewildered.
"They insisted upon it for your protection," Kingsley stated clearly, though when the pair met one another's gaze they both knew that neither fully believed that to be the case.
"What else ought I know before I decide?"
"Should you decide to proceed you will be read into all relevant research and studies on both the Ministry and Medical side. The team will have access to records, archive and current permanent residency patients at St. Mungo's," the Minister explained. The wizard studied the petite witch closely. Her expression was still weary; the offering of a wide expanse of knowledge did not have the effect that those in charge of the project had hoped it would. The witch sitting in front of him was a mystery. She could be the one person in their sphere of influence capable of this task. How, though, was he to go about reassuring her that it was the best thing for the whole of the wizarding world? That it was for the greater good?
So he expressed it just so. It was her duty to her country and her world to at very least consider the proposal. It was something she should want to do for the greater good. It was all a load of rubbish and they both knew it.
Hermione grimaced. She had grown so very tired of that particular phrase over the years. Hadn't she paid her dues to the greater good? Wasn't that precisely what she, Ron and Harry had spent the better part of the last seven years doing?
Please, please don't whispered the little voice in her mind that had saved her life more than once. The promises are as empty as that Muggleborn Registration Act. They protect them. Not you.
Hermione studied the Minister and his proposal from that specific angle and frowned. "How long do I have to make a decision?"
Kingsley's jaw tightened minutely but he forced himself shrug casually, something that Hermione took immediate notice of. Kingsley wasn't generally so loose with body language. Something had him severely unsettled about the situation. "Tomorrow lunch is the latest we are prepared to wait for a decision. The contract would be read, signed and sealed by close of business."
"May I ask who is heading the project? I imagine they're not having the Minister for Magic leading?"
"No, I am not the lead only the one requested to approach you. I believe that they felt our prior association would be helpful in swaying you towards the project. I am not permitted to discuss other possible participants, however."
She leaned back into her seat with her arms crossed thoughtfully in front of her. No one, including (or perhaps especially) her would be allowed to speak of the work outside of those read in and he was very specific in stating that the team would have special accesses. Not that she would. After a weighted silence she asked her final and most concerning question, "And for the sake of my curiosity, if I choose to turn down your generous offer?"
The Minister smiled, though it looked much more forced than it had at the beginning of the meeting. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
Hermione suppressed a shudder, keeping her expression as clear as possible. The voice in her mind spoke again It sounds like a choice but there really is none. They will have you willingly or by force. She had a chilling impression that couldn't be more true. Hesitantly, she flicked her wand and muttered the well-used privacy charm and focused her attention back on the Minister, "What's actually going on, Kingsley?"
"I really do wish I could tell you more," he admitted, wearily. "Unfortunately, I had to be bound to the contact before I could be allowed to be the one to approach you with the proposed project. There are some things in the works that you should think very carefully over Hermione. I would advise you lay low and consider your opinions."
Hermione frowned. His words were vague enough but his meaning was fairly clear and she knew her suspicions weren't far off the mark. She stood from her seat and extended her hand "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me Kingsley. I'll think over the idea and let you know my decision first thing tomorrow morning."
Kingsley shook her hand and smiled warmly, pulling her into a surprisingly affectionate hug. "Look out for yourself. I can't do that for you right now. My hands are tied."
"Thank you, Kingsley. I'll be in touch. Please keep yourself safe, also," She returned the hug and nodded wearily before excusing herself from the restaurant. Forcing herself to maintain a normal pace to the elevator her mind started analyzing her options. She could simply tell Kingsley that she wasn't interested in the proposed project and see what would happen. They will come for you. Possibly even in the office tomorrow morning. She could ask for more time. At best it's only delaying the inevitable. She could run. You'll become a fugitive. They will hunt you. You're an unknown that they can't afford. And finally, she could submit to the contract and hope for the best.
The voice was silent but unease shot through her mind and down her spine like an electrical current.
Hermione frowned as the elevator moved towards the atrium too distracted to even register the rough ride. As she exited the lift she thought back over the last two years. Trying to dig deep to figure out what it was that apparently made her so special. Obviously, it wasn't magic alone as she'd believed as a child. So what was it? How had she escaped a stay in the Janus Thickney ward? She'd not even hardly spent more than the time it took to down a Pepper Up in the Hogwarts' Hospital Wing.
Actually, despite everything that had happened and all that she'd been through there was only two instances where she had actually spent any real length of time in the Infirmary. The first was when she had been petrified during her second year. The second was during her fifth year after the events in the Department of Mysteries.
I'm very sorry about that, the voice said in her mind. Hermione paused briefly in front of the Floo gate. Swallowing thickly, she called out the address to her little flat and stepped through. Instinctually, she immediately threw up the Floo lock and other protective wardings before she dropped wearily onto her couch.
But what was she sorry for? Or better yet who was sorry about what?
Again I must apologize. This time, though, for not properly introducing myself. You see, I am a part of you but I am not you.
This was it. Hermione was sure of it. The sole reason she was not in the Janus Thickney ward was because she was already absolutely out of her mind. She had in fact, cracked completely. Her mind kicked into overdrive trying to remember everything she had overheard from her parents about people who "heard voices".
No no, you're not insane. You're perfectly sane, actually. I don't think I've ever really seen a mind so very organized in one so young in all my centuries. Quite impressive, really. Oh no. No don't panic please Hermione. Deep breaths love, there you go.
"Who..,what are you?" Hermione asked, feeling even more odd speaking to the empty room.
Ah, two questions in there. Let's go in order, shall we? I am called Marax. I am what your kind would refer to as a demon.
"I'm possessed. Oh that's just perfect. Not only am I going crazy and talking to the voice in my head that, until now, I thought was totally normal but that voice is, in fact, a demon?!" Hermione shrieked. Her breath was coming in pants and she knew she needed to bring herself back under control. How long has she been possessed? She couldn't remember how long the voice had been with her. "How-How long?"
She could feel the demon's reluctance and scowled. Finally, she felt the resigned sigh-which in itself was a decidedly odd feeling-and the voice spoke. I have been with you since the year of the serpent. I joined you when the King Serpent should have killed you.
"King S-Oh the Basilisk." Hermione muttered, bordering on hysterical. "That long? But how? Why then? Wait...should have killed me? What do you mean 'should have' killed me? Why am I only just now learning that I have had a demon in my head for over five years?"
There was a moment between your sighting of the Great Beast and your petrification, as brilliant as the little hand mirror was-and it really was quite brilliant thinking, it would not have been enough to have completely protected you.
"Okay, so why me? And don't even say you did it solely for my own good!" Hermione couldn't help but feel rather annoyed at the sense of amusement that drifted through her mind.
No, no you are correct. No being survives long without tending to their own self preservation. No, Hermione, a brief examination told me that settling with the young girl in terrible danger was a decision that was highly likely to be a mutually beneficial, symbiotic relationship. And indeed it has.
"And has it?" She asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
It most certainly has. You see, I have lived a very long time, Hermione. Much of it has been spent in an in between state. My kind cannot survive without a host. We can sink into a sort of hibernation for an extended period if we must but to actually survive and have any sense of functionality we must have a host.
"There are more of you?" she asked in surprise.
Of course. I'm far from being the only. My kind have been for many of centuries. Many of us have lived that long in varying states of awareness. There are benefits given to both of us in this relationship. It is a truly symbiotic relationship. Or, I suppose, it is meant to be.
"What do you mean?"
As with your own kind, there are those of us who would use and abuse this sort of relationship. The are those of us, unfortunately, who do take full control of there hosts. Which is where your knowledge of possession comes from. We have some of those with lower integrity just as you have in yours.
"That makes sense. So what is the benefits to either of us?"
The most relevant at the current moment, for you, is that my presence assists in the maintenance of your mental state. Your physical body suffers minimally from the tremors of your torture due to the fact that I was able to absorb much of the shock of that particular sort of magic. It does not harm me. By your knowledge you have been unaffected by three separate attempts of love potions by 'admirers' as my presence allows me to neutralize outside forces that would compromise our system and our ability to function. My presence heightens your instincts and your awareness to your surroundings. And it improves your already impressive memory retention. I am also able to support and improve your body's natural immune system and assist in the recovery of what does get through.
Hermione sat back into the couch and considered everything that had been discussed to the point. And tilted her head in thought, "So what do you get out of this?" It was quite odd to feel a sly smile unfurl in her mind that didn't belong to her.
My dear, I get to live. Historically speaking, my past hosts have all been quite powerful. Intelligence and skillful people have been something I find myself quite lucky to have a pattern of finding. You provide me with a chance to reincorporate back into the physical realm. I am able to learn the current political and intellectual climates. Through you, I am able to evolve and evaluate where the next step is. Together, if we play our moves just right, we can make an enormous difference and, if we so choose, turn the world on it's head. Together, we have the wit, the fortitude, and the full capability to to eventually take over your Kingsley's position. We have the ability to do everything and more that Albus Dumbledore achieved but without the loss of the pawns that he so carelessly discarded.
Hermione would be lying if she denied that the acquisition of both knowledge and power wasn't something that she routinely lusted after. Top grades, prefect, Head Girl, Golden girl. She was always at the top, even when the world felt she belonged at the bottom. She was not the sort to settle for mediocre. She didn't make it a habit to lie to herself and therefore it was equally impossiblefor her to lie to Marax. The truth was, he hit the nail on the head on how the relationship would play their strengths to the best possible result.
Her mind slowed and her shoulders dropped as she sighed, "What are we going to do about this? I don't even know how to handle this one. I don't want us to get roped into whatever nightmare is awaiting us tomorrow but I also don't want to cause Kingsley troubles when they decide that he somehow tipped me off at the lunch meeting yesterday."
I believe that your Kingsley has already begun preparing himself for that instance. There is nothing in any of your many interactions with the man that suggests he believes you to be anything other than logical and aware. He knew before you were seated for lunch that you would catch onto something unsettling and that you would not be eager to jump head first into the program. Your Kingsley did not last over two decades in your Law Enforcement and two wars by being ignorant to the abilities of those around him.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, "Why do you keep referring to him as my Kingsley? He's nothing of the sort."
For the moment, Marax dismissed her protest causing the young witch to flush. I believe that the concern for him is not high on our list for consideration at the moment. More important is ensuring our survival and their inability to capture us.
"Do you have any ideas?"
You will need your friends. You are not yet bound by the contract and can reveal what is going on. Perhaps they will be able to assist. Be careful who you bring into this. Whomever we choose to tell will be in danger when you do not arrive at the Ministry to fulfill that contract. They must be able to defend themselves from whatever may come.
"Our Ministry group then. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna."
There was a feeling of hesitant indecisiveness that permeated her mind. Might I make a suggestion? Marax offered. With Hermione's positive consent Marax continued. Do not stick with your usual here. It paints an even larger target upon them and you get a single facet of thoughts and ideas. Vary your advisors. Potter is a nonnegotiable ally, I understand. The Weasley family has too much to risk being brought into this. Longbottom and Lovegood I encourage. They have unique insights and networks that may be useful as we go forward. I should also recommend the Lupin's and Black if they are willing. I have one more suggestion but it will be much more controversial if you're willing to hear it.
Hermione considered everything that had been suggested so far. While she bulked at the idea of leaving Ginny and Ron out she also understood the reasoning behind the suggestion. The determined weariness peaked her curiosity though.
We should enlist the support of someone outside our usual realm of association. Someone who would be able to offer drastically different opinions and suggestions than our usual circle. I would recommend that you choose that person wisely. It is not a decision we have to make currently. I would recommend you contact the advisors that you have chosen thus far as soon as possible so that we might be able to best utilize their assistance.
"Have we decided on what our best option is yet?" Hermione asked, chewing contemplatively on the corner of her lower lip.
A chill, though not necessarily an unpleasant one, ran down her spine at the sly grin that she could feel unveil in the back of her mind. Not outwardly, no. Only a select of even our advisors will know the truth of our decision. To all else, we are aiming to avoid this trap set by your Ministry.
"And we'll really be doing what?" Hermione asked.
We, my dear, will be avoiding the trap but we're playing the long game who's only end must result in the achievement of power. When we are through we will have no issue taking this world into the modern era. We will climb to the top. Our possibilities are truly limitless so long as we are bound.
Author note:
So, what do you think? Something you'd be interested in seeing go further? Something that you're not really on so far? Feedback!