Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition
Position: Beater 2 for Holyhead Harpies
Prompts:
What would life be like two years after Voldemort rises to power?
2. (quote) 'An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind' - Mahatma Gandhi
4. (word) revolution
7. (song) 'Centuries' by Fall Out Boy
Word Count: 1,882
Thanks to Chloe and Lizzie for beta'ing!
11:42 p.m.
The girl they called Valkyrie walked into the room and looked around at her fellow conspirators. This meeting, as important as it was, would have to be brief; they all had jobs to do elsewhere, and the Dark Lord wasn't exactly known for his patience.
"Are you all set?" Odin asked as Valkyrie sat down. Of all of the defectors in this room, Odin's betrayal to the Dark Lord was the most shocking. He was a known enemy of Muggles and Muggle-borns, and he had been one of the most prominent Death Eaters for nearly half his life. But much had changed in the two years since the Dark Lord's rise to power—that much was clear by the faces looking at Valkyrie.
There was Jormungandr, whose pale face was marred by dark circles under his eyes as if he had not slept since he'd watched his friends perish in the Battle of Hogwarts. There was Sigmund, whose mouth was set in a perpetual pain-induced grimace, and whose cheeks had quite lost the youthful roundness they'd once had. And there was Odin, their self-appointed leader, who had to work hard to hide their plans from his wife. Fortunately, she wasn't home often enough to catch them—she had always preferred spending time with the Dark Lord to spending time with her own husband. Not that the Dark Lord was spending much time with anyone recently. He was seen little, always holed up in that little office of his, summoning all sorts of people to see him.
It was lucky, really—if he'd been in public all the time, meetings this would be much harder to pull off.
"Everything is in order, thank you, Odin." Valkyrie allowed herself a small smile at the look of frustration on his face. Odin hated these codenames, but it was the only way to keep themselves safe—the walls had ears in these times, and the quietest whisper overheard by the wrong person could get them all killed. As it was, a bunch of Norse gods and ancient warriors were less likely to arouse suspicion.
"Are we sure this is a good idea?" The quivering voice belonged to Jormungandr: a snake in both name and nature. He, too, had been a member of the Dark Lord's Inner Circle, although a less consistently loyal one than Odin. When Valkyrie strained, she could still hear the old arrogance in his voice, but she could not deny that Jormungandr had matured immensely since his days at Hogwarts."
"Yes, it is quite like you to switch sides, isn't it." Jormungandr sneered, "The smartest witch of our age couldn't bear to be on the losing team. As soon as your Chosen One fell, you were running to join up, weren't you? Didn't it hurt at all? Betraying your friends? What about when you had to kill him? Did that—"
"We've been over this," Odin said. "The plan is solid. Valkyrie will take the briefcase in, and then get out before the Dark Lord even knows what's hit him."
"But what if it doesn't go off? Just one mistake is all it will take. I mean, the whole thing relies on Valkyrie's potion skills, and back in school she was never as good as—"
"Things have changed since we were in school, Jormungandr," Valkyrie said. She'd long since learnt to ignore the taunts that had riled her so much as a girl. "I wasn't a Death Eater back then."
"Enough!"
Sigmund was on his feet. He had been quiet so far, but now he looked at the group with derision. Of the four of them, he was the only one whose arm did not bear the Dark Mark—and for his resistance, he had paid dearly. He was blind in one eye. On his right hand, only three fingers remained. He walked with a limp for the times his legs had been savaged by the Dark Lord's pet.
"Whether or not the plan succeeds doesn't matter," Sigmund said. "Vold—"
"Don't say the name!" Jormungandr said.
Sigmund glared at him before sighing and carrying on. "You-Know-Who's reign is coming to an end. The people are ready to fight back. Most of the Muggles may be in the work camps, but there are enough of them to overpower the guards. His loyal supporters aren't so loyal anymore." He sent a glance toward Odin, who sighed as if bored. "If we send a message that he's vulnerable, there'll be a full-blown revolution. When they talk about how he fell, this is the story they'll tell. We will go down in history. They will remember us for centuries." Sigmund had his fists clenched. "So many have suffered and died. No more will die. None except him."
"That's bullshit and you know it," Valkyrie said.
Sigmund set his jaw. "I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand."
"Someone like me?" Valkyrie was on her feet. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think if you look at your arm, you know what it means."
Valkyrie closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. "Your reasons aren't some noble notions about freedom or even something selfish like fame. You want the exact same thing as I do. You want revenge."
Sigmund shook his head. "I want it all to be over. You know what Gandhi said: 'An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind.'" Sigmund's one-eyed gaze was piercing, but it was clear that he was tired; he had grown old before his time. "I've already lost an eye, Valkyrie. I've no desire to lose the other."
Sigmund sat heavily. The room was silent for a few seconds before Valkyrie turned back to the other two, voice a little shakier than earlier. "Freya is in place in the Ministry. Yggdrasil and company are ready to liberate the work camps. I think everything is good to go."
"What time is your appointment with the Dark Lord?" Odin asked.
"12:30."
"Good luck." Odin stood. "If nobody else has anything to say, I suppose we'll adjourn this meeting. I've got to get home so Bell—so my wife won't be suspicious." He nodded at Valkyrie and swept out through the door. Jormungandr managed a shaky smile before slinking off after him.
Valkyrie turned to Sigmund. He was staring at the floor. "How are you?"
Valkyrie regretted asking as Sigmund looked up with anger glinting in his eyes. "I'll be better when this is over."
"Okay." Valkyrie was unsure what else to say. "I'm sorry."
"You should be."
"I am."
"We were friends." Sigmund rubbed his temples. "I'll never understand it. We were hand-picked for Gryffindor for our loyalty, and you just left us all. You even killed—" Sigmund cut himself off. "You know, as a child, my memory was always my biggest weakness. But now . . . I'd give anything to forget."
"I didn't want to betray you," Valkyrie said. "They'd caught me. It was the only way to survive."
"Was it really worth surviving?"
"Yes!" She grabbed his wrist until he looked up at her. "If the plan works this afternoon, then everything was worth it."
Sigmund pulled his wrist away. "You need to go to your meeting. We can talk about this afterward."
Swallowing hard, Valkyrie walked out of the room.
12:21 p.m.
As she sat in the lobby, Valkyrie looked down at the briefcase on her lap. It was complex, the potion she had rigged up this morning, but it boiled down to a powerful acid eating through a leather strap to release a highly sensitive potion into a vial of water. The potion would react with the water, erupting in a fiery explosion. Boom. Once it was started, it couldn't be stopped; twenty minutes after the acid was released, the briefcase would explode. The blast would bring down the entire building.
Valkyrie took a deep breath and started off the acid.
12:32 p.m.
"He will see you now," said the Dark Lord's secretary. She was a short and somewhat portly woman with limp blonde hair. Her pink sweater and sickly-sweet smile reminded Valkyrie of a younger Professor Umbridge.
Valkyrie stood and walked into the Dark Lord's office. It was smaller than expected for a person of his arrogance, but still spacious and very tastefully decorated.
Sitting at the desk was a small, hunched figure with stretched and wrinkled skin. He looked up as Valkyrie entered. The smile he gave her revealed grotesque teeth and cracked grey gums. The years had not been kind to Lord Voldemort.
"Well, if it isn't the Mudblood Hermione Granger." His high-pitched voice sounded gritty, like a snake moving across a stone floor.
Valkyrie clenched her briefcase. "How are you, my Lord?"
He didn't answer, just gestured to the seat opposite him. "I trust that you're settling into your new quarters?"
Valkyrie sat, placing the briefcase under the desk between them. "Yes thank you, my Lord. Everyone has been very accommodating."
"Good, good." He fixed his eyes on her own. "I suppose you're wondering why I called you here."
"I am, my Lord."
The Dark Lord stood and turned away, looking out of the window that faced the courtyard outside his building. "They hate me out there," he said, his gaze never leaving the window. "Don't think I can't feel it, the boiling sea of hatred. Even from you." He turned his head now to look at Valkyrie. "Don't deny it."
"I wasn't going to."
"I killed your parents, girl," he said, keeping his eyes on hers. "I killed your friends. I forced you to kill Harry Potter."
Valkyrie didn't flinch. "I remember."
"You are very wise, Miss Granger. It is the only thing that makes me hesitant to kill you."
Valkyrie's heart was pounding. Within the briefcase, the acid was surely halfway through the leather. . .
"You have served me loyally, in spite of the unfortunate circumstance of your blood status. And Lord Voldemort rewards his loyal followers." He returned to his seat, his snake-like eyes piercing her brown ones. "I have heard there are traitors among my Death Eaters. I have heard whispers of a plot."
Valkyrie pushed the briefcase further towards him with her toe. "I haven't heard—"
"I am promoting you to Head Snatcher in the hopes that your wisdom will uncover the truth."
Valkyrie felt her eyes widen. "Oh."
"Do your job well and I can assure you that you will be rewarded."
"Thank you, my Lord."
He turned back to the window. "Leave me. I will send for you again soon."
"Yes, my Lord." As Valkyrie rose to leave, she snuck a glance at the watch on her left hand. It was 12:41 p.m.
"Miss Granger?"
She froze halfway out the door, her back to him. "My Lord?"
"You've forgotten your brief—"
12:42 p.m.
Boom.