NOTE/WARNING: My first HP fanfic :) It is DARK HERMIONE and gets gruesome. There is death. Just a warning. Let me know what you think!
UNMASKED
When Harry Potter stumbled to his knees in front of Ginny's body, lying on the cold stone floor of the Chamber of Secrets, the very last person he expected to encounter was Hermione Granger. She stood, leaning casually against one of the tall stone pillars surrounding Salazar Slytherin's statue, twirling a wand in her fingers like a toy. She didn't say anything, and Harry was rapidly beginning to convince himself that he was hallucinating. Clutching Ginny's robes in his already bloodied hands, he managed to croak out her name.
"Hermione," he said desperately. "You're alright, I don't know how you're here, but you're alright- Ginny isn't, we have to help her. If you're real, if this is…" He trailed off.
Hermione just looked at him with an expression of vague interest. She wasn't quite Hermione, which made Harry even more suspicious about her presence; This Hermione was much older than twelve years old, seventeen or eighteen if he had to guess. The Hermione that he knew was lying miles above ground, petrified in the Hogwarts hospital wing. The Hermione that he knew had never had such a cold, calculating look on her face, and the red gleam in her eyes was giving life to the dread beginning to clench in his stomach. He tried to shove his bubbling panic back down and spoke again.
"Hermione, we found your note, there really is a basilisk- I haven't seen it yet, but it's here, you have to help me get Ginny out before it comes. Ron and Lockhart are here; They're stuck in the passage… How did you get here? The basilisk could be here any moment, we have to go!" He was rambling, and she was still just looking at him, twirling the wand. Right then, he thought, this is definitely a hallucination. If she (or whoever it was) wasn't going to help, Harry knew that the only was to get Ginny out was alone. He gathered Ginny into his arms and was reaching for his wand that he had dropped to the side when he realized with finality that something was very wrong. He lifted his eyes from where they rested on the small, battered black diary on the ground, back to the girl in front of him. Twirling his wand between her fingers. "Give me my wand," he said slowly.
Hermione straightened and took a step away from the pillar. As she did, she slipped Harry's wand into her pocket. "You won't be needing it," she said with a slow smile that made Harry shudder. "Don't worry. I just want to talk to you first."
"I will be needing it." He carefully placed Ginny back on the floor and took a step towards Hermione- towards whoever she was, trying to ignore the fear that crept through his body at that word: first. "The basilisk-"
"Don't worry," she interrupted, her smile widening. "It won't come until it's called."
"What are you….?" Harry trailed off.
The girl laughed: a high, feminine laugh that made his hair stand on end. That was Hermione's laugh. Harry felt anger welling up inside him and he lashed out.
"Look, I dunno who you are or what you're playing at, but this isn't funny. Ginny is dying and the person who did this is probably still here."
She laughed again. "You really are daft. I've spent all year slipping you hints, trying to lead you to this Chamber, and the furthest you got was trying to incriminate bloody Malfoy. Stupidity. That's a Gryffindor trait, that is. I didn't expect I'd have to resort to dragging the girl down here, but here we are."
Harry gaped at her. "Spent all year… We spent all year trying to find the heir of Slytherin, how would you… You're not Hermione. What did you do with Hermione?" He was shouting now, fists clenched.
"Spent all year trying to find the Heir of Slytherin, yes. You didn't do a very good job, did you? I suppose that was to be expected, but I admit I overestimated you, Potter." When Harry continued to look at her, blank fury masking his features, she sighed dramatically. "I'm the Heir of Slytherin, of course."
"WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HERMIONE GRANGER," Harry shouted at her. He moved to stand protectively in front of Ginny's lifeless form, all the while looking quickly around, trying to figure out how he was going to get his wand back and escape with Ginny.
"Hermione Granger?" The witch tilted her head to the side and gave him another mocking smile. She didn't appear the least bit frightened of him. Harry watched as she walked around him to squat down and peer into Ginny's pale face. The sound of her shoes clicking on the stone floor made him shiver. "Granger," she repeated, still staring at Ginny. "It's Riddle, actually."
Harry launched himself at her, but before he had even touched her she jerked her own wand and a blinding jet of light hit him square in the chest, knocking him off his feet. He watched her from the floor, gasping all the while.
"Riddle?" He managed to choke out. "Then the diary was- Tom Riddle is-"
"My father, yes." Hermione looked impatient now. The irritation starting to twist her features nearly stopped Harry from asking his next question, but he let the words tumble out in spite of himself.
"What has that got to do with me? Or Ginny?"
"What do you have to do with Hermione Riddle, the last descendent of Salazar Slytherin? Everything, Harry Potter. You may have escaped death at my father's hands but I promise you that today you won't be so lucky." She stared coldly at the boy on the floor of the chamber, lips curling into a cruel smirk as she watched the wheels start spinning in his head.
"Voldemort." Harry said. "Tom Riddle is Voldemort. And you're… you're his daughter? But how? You've been with us all year, you've…" He watched as she picked up the small black diary from the floor, caressing the cover with her thumb.
"Don't you see, Harry? The web has been weaving for longer than you know. For the last two years, you've come to love sweet, clever, Mudblood Hermione Granger. You all have. How could you not? She was such a loyal friend." She was still smiling at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. "All year, little Ginny Weasley has been pouring her heart and soul into my father's old diary. I made sure to slip it into her school things at the start of term. A back to school present, if you will."
Harry's blood ran cold. The witch didn't stop talking. She was pacing now, the diary in one hand and her wand in the other, green sparks flying from the tip with the force of the magical energy she was radiating.
"My father was never truly gone, only weakened. He's been gaining strength, you understand. As Ginny grows weaker, he grows stronger." She stopped pacing and fixed him with a calculating gaze. "I'm going to kill you, Harry Potter. And when I do, the Dark Lord will rise again."
Harry tried to stop the fear from showing in his face but he knew it was in vain; he felt himself go pale. "You were my friend… Hermione, please. You don't have to do this. We can save Ginny."
Hermione only turned and strode towards the great Slytherin statue in front of them, leaving Harry and Ginny lying on the floor behind her. "You nearly cost me my father, Harry Potter. My father, and the great power I intend to wield beside him. You were never my friend. Only a tool." She gazed thoughtfully into Slytherin's great stone face, but before she could speak, the sound of music rent the air and she whirled to face the source. Harry nearly sobbed with relief when he saw Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, gliding gracefully through the air, dropping something dark into his lap before stopping to perch heavily on his shoulder. "Fawkes," he breathed. "Dumbledore!" Dumbledore knows, he thought. Dumbledore will come. We're saved.
Hermione, however, was shaking with mirth. "This is what Dumbledore sends his defender? A songbird and an old hat!" Her laughter filled the chamber, echoing off the walls. "Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?" Harry didn't answer. He checked the object in his lap- it was indeed the Sorting Hat. Harry didn't know what Dumbledore intended for him to do with the object, but for a few sweet moments he felt his courage mounting, driven by the thought that he wasn't alone. Then Hermione cocked her head at him and sighed. "Right, then. Avada Kedavra." She lazily jerked her wand in his direction and Harry heard his own strangled scream as Dumbledore's phoenix fell from his shoulder, dead.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING AT," he screamed at Hermione's back, hot tears streaming from his eyes. She didn't answer. She was facing the statue again. When she spoke again it was with a low hissing sound that filled Harry with dread, most because he understood her words.
"Speak to me, Slytherin," she was saying. Harry continued to sob silently over Fawkes, watching in horror as Slytherin's stone face began to move. He knew what was coming. He tried to move to protect Ginny, but the curse Hermione had sent his way earlier had injured him and he was unable to do more than crawl helplessly towards her, inch by inch.
Slytherin's great mouth opened wider and wider, separating into an enormous black passageway. Harry screwed his eyes shut tightly, listening in horror as he heard the unmistakable sounds of the basilisk emerging from the newly opened passage, and Hermione hissing again. "Kill him." With a burst of strength and energy inspired by his fear, Harry lurched to his feet. He grabbed the Sorting Hat from the ground beside him and shoved it onto his head, all the while thinking please help me, Dumbledore, please help me. He began to run blindly, waving his hands about in front of him, trying hopelessly to tune out the sounds of Hermione's cold, cruel laughter and the huge snake's heavy body slithering towards him. Harry felt himself stumble into something warm that could only have been Ginny's still lifeless body. As he fell, the Sorting Hat lurched off of his head and he desperately turned to the side to avoid meeting the basilisk's eyes.
By some horrible stroke of chance, Harry found himself staring into a dark puddle on the floor of the chamber, and in it he saw the reflection of his fate before it reached him. Hermione was standing beside the basilisk, twirling his wand again between her fingers. When he caught the gaze of the snake in the water's reflection, he felt his body paralyze. He was unable to move or speak, but he could still see, and heard Hermione's soft words clearly.
"I did say that I was going to kill you, Harry Potter."
He was unable to scream when the basilisk's long, razor thin fangs sank into his chest, but he felt the venom spreading through his body. The last thing Harry Potter saw was a dark, shadowy form emerging from the open pages of Tom Riddle's diary.
