A/N - I don't own Harry Potter
This is a oneshot written for the Thank God You're Here prompt thread over at DLP.
His scar hurt. It hurt a lot. Being in the presence of Lord Voldemort would do that when you had a damned horcrux in your head. Of course the scar wasn't the only thing in pain. Oh no, the rest of his body still hurt, still spasmed occasionally from Cruciatus after Cruciatus.
He could hear laughing. The cold heartless laughter of the Death Eaters who found pain and suffering to be a game. He could hear muffled sobs too, those coming from the girl standing in front of her two best friends.
Incomprehensible muttering reached his ears from Ron, who was bound just as he was, kneeling next to him in front of all the Death Eaters. Harry wondered if the torture had broken Ron. It had almost broken him.
He lifted his eyes to look at Hermione, whose scarred face looked back at him and then at Ron. She held her wand clenched tightly in her fist but was unable to move.
The sibilant hiss of Voldemort's voice permeated the room as he walked slowly to Hermione's side.
"It is time little mudblood."
Glistening tears leaked down Hermione's face. Sobs were choked back as she glanced at the Dark Lord and shuddered.
"It is your choice girl," Voldemort said. He drew a finger down the side of her face brushing away a tear. Hermione flinched away, desperate to ignore what was happening.
"One of your friends will be spared the torturous death I fully intend to give the one who remains," Voldemort explained.
They had been so foolhardy. So sure that they could win. They had destroyed the horcruxes. Voldemort was mortal, save for the one in his head. Harry knew he had to die for Voldemort to finally be defeated. So they had confronted him at Hogwarts and they had failed. They had failed everyone. Neville and Ginny and Luna, the Weasleys, McGonagall. They were all dead.
Harry locked his gaze on Hermione, silently pleading that she should spare Ron the torture as further mutters drifted from Ron's mouth. For all of Ron's faults he had been a good friend. If Harry could do it he would take the torture so his friend would be spared.
Voldemort reached over and grasped Hermione's face and jerked her head around to meet his blood-red eyes. "One of them is going to die. Acknowledge that. Believe in it. One of them will die. Accept it. Then make your choice."
Brown eyes, clouded by tears, jerked away from the monster and wavered between the forms of her two best friends. One of them... just one, she could spare whatever was coming. Ronald Weasley or Harry Potter. Her boyfriend or best friend. It was no real choice, they were all going to die anyway.
"Choose mudblood," Voldemort snarled. "Or you'll be the last to go. Forced to watch both of your foolish friends suffer and die before you."
Two words. Hermione raised her wand, and drew forth all of her hatred and anger and malice that she felt towards Voldemort and closed her eyes. So be it.
"Avada Kedavra."
Voldemort stared dispassionately at the scene for a moment.
"Interesting choice."
