Of Roses and Thorns
Chapter 1 – Prologue
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
May 2, 1998
"I knew I'd see you again." The voice, a smooth, snake-like hiss, came from behind her. Hermione Granger's blood froze as she turned around to face the man she had hoped to never again see. She tried not to betray her fear as she came face to face with Lord Voldemort, his wand trained carefully at her heart. "Hermione," He whispered triumphantly, his eyes narrowing. "I've waited for this moment for so long, my love."
Hermione's pulse quickened. Where had she gone wrong? She had warned Albus Dumbledore, she had given him explicit instructions, had mapped out the location of each Horcrux, had done everything in her power to ensure the defeat of the man in front of her. She felt the frustration well up as tears in her eyes, but dared not to give in. To do so would be weakness in Voldemort's eyes. "I'm not your love," She spat, tightening her grip on her wand. He merely chuckled.
He circled her casually, his wand no longer pointed at her exclusively. "You don't look the way you did during my school boy days. But, of course, I'd recognize you anywhere. I can taste your magic." As if to emphasize his point, his tongue flicked out and she cringed back in disgust. He snickered. "And even if your magical signature weren't so palpable, how could I forget the pathetic, dirty mudblood who destroyed my heart all those years ago?"
"Rot in hell, Tom." Hermione ground out.
Voldemort cocked his head to the left and raised an eyebrow. Before Hermione could blink, he had bound her with invisible rope and she was unable to move. "Your precious Harry Potty and his hero Dumbly spent a good deal believing that if I felt remorse," he spat the word mirthlessly, as if it were a disgusting thing passing through his lips. "That my soul would be saved; that they would be saved. But of course you and I both know that any chance of that vanished the moment you left me. They have you to thank then, don't they, my love?"
Hermione slowly twisted her hand to point her wand at her bindings.
Voldemort continued with a sigh. "You really are no better than my filthy muggle of a father, hm? Muggles are all the same: destroying those who love you without as much as a backward glance."
"You're a piece of work, Tom. You know that? You're a shameful, nasty piece of work. Love? No one would ever love you," Hermione, with a flick of her wand, broke her bindings and aimed at his heart. She smirked at him and continued. "Least of all me."
Voldemort smirked at her and lifted his wand lazily. "Shame."
"Avada Kedavra!" They cast at the same time, but Hermione wasn't as quick. Her eyes widened at the flash of green light.
And then, nothing.