Author: Svelte Rose
Rating: R
Title: East of the Dyan Moon
Characters: Hermione Granger, Lord Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange
Warnings: N/A
Date: January 10th, 2010
Prompt: 05. Impasse
Summary: This compound was theirs and more would follow. Bellatrix meets Hermione for the first time on the battlefield.
Disclaimer: I do not own HP. JKR does.
Notes: Many thanks to the lovely Bella for beta-ing this. :]
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Bellatrix Lestrange screamed in fury as she lobbied spell after spell, a volley of colored lights illuminating the field of fallen witches and wizards. Beside her, her husband also attacked, both growing rapidly in anger and rage as the source of their ire clutched a potentially broken arm. Untouched by their spells, a faint blue glow surrounded the bushy-haired witch, powered by the strange language carved into the ground beneath her feet.
There was no denying it was a well-crafted spell.
She had never seen anything like it before which made it that much more annoying. Bellatrix had heard reports of this particular Muggle-born but she'd scoffed at them all the same. She would need to see it to believe it and even when she did see it, was seeing it, she still couldn't believe her eyes.
A small shiver of awareness traveled up her arm. Bellatrix sneered knowingly and her magic ceased flowing.
Vile, putrid, disgusting -
Something shifted in the air and she withdrew her wand, a noticeable tremble shooting down her arm.
Bellatrix didn't need to look back in order to know who had arrived, with just the faint crack of Apparition. A waft of dark magic washed over her and she pressed a fist to her chest, eyes closed briefly in reverence. The tall and imposing figure walked past them without a pause. He stopped at the boundary of the shield magic, the toes of his shoes grazing the crude writing.
Bellatrix knew the words falling from the Muggle-born's mouth were far from the reverence the Dark Lord deserved. Her anger quickly revived, a curse instantly pulsed from her wand in a ray of red. It should have hit the intended target, but a scant distance before, the spell exploded against the shield. Another shimmer of blue could be seen before it disappeared completely.
The Dark Lord raised a hand, and Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. Her arm dropped instantly, wand fizzing at her side with barely contained magic; she didn't like it, but she trusted him.
Absolutely and completely.
England would fall to them but not if they couldn't get all of it under their control.
Bellatrix had studied the files gathered on all of the Order's members, this witch in particular. Even with the inked report staring at her in the face, the entire situation annoyed her to no end. Half of her didn't – couldn't – believe that some seventeen-year old stain was the sole reason that a portion of Wizarding England still remained untouched by their work. The other half just couldn't be bothered to figure out the logistics. Surely someone that young, that inexperienced, and that tainted couldn't have done so. Not by herself, at any rate.
But Hermione Granger had. Blood played no role when the facts proved this particular trash knew their magic.
With a specialty in defensive and warding spells, if she remembered correctly.
Clearly age made little difference in a time of war.
From what they'd gathered, the chit was the sole lead of the rebel's tactical defense unit. Getting her to this impasse had already been difficult to manage. The dirty slag had felled a handful of Death Eaters before Bellatrix could even get to the scene. By then, Granger had already moulded her shield.
Aside from the basic platoon of witches and wizards defending this stronghold, there hadn't been anyone else worthy of real mention.
For instance, where in the nine pits of hell was Potter? Shouldn't he have also been here defending their main medical facility?
Still, they would get to him eventually, Bellatrix smirked.
She really had to thank her sorry excuse of a nephew because he'd been their first in. Draco had created so many problems for them at the beginning. The Dark Lord had even set aside a special force just to take care of the Malfoy heir. Difficult to capture and even more difficult to manage, he had kept them busy.
Fortunately, Draco's magic had been entirely too volatile for him to work up any defense whatsoever, added to that – the torture of his dear beloved mother (Bellatrix had entirely too much fun with that) – he had been ripe for plucking.
Then there was Rabastan, her brave and highly ambitious brother-in-law who'd been the one to volunteer his services.
This compound was theirs.
A pop sounded at her right and she was greeted with the visage of her faux-nephew, a smirk upon his face. His blond hair was already darkening to a more customary raven color and his grey eyes were long gone, replaced by the deepest blue imaginable.
Already, the Polyjuice potion was wearing off. Bellatrix particularly wanted to revel in this. She turned her head towards the witch in question, a triumphant look upon her face. Instead of shock and betrayal, she was met with impassivity and lassitude. In fact, Granger even looked a little bit amused as Draco Malfoy's face fell away to reveal Rabastan Lestrange.
Bellatrix threw a confused look at the Dark Lord who seemed to be studying the young witch far too intensely for her liking. He circled her, his steps never quite touching the ground. Voldemort looked, for all the world, like a predator going about their hunt.
Another pop sounded and this time, it was Avery who shivered with the after-effects of a Cruciatus. Nott followed soon after, sporting a limp and a gash across his temple.
"What happened?" She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. They had been the ones assigned to watch the young Malfoy.
Who was not anywhere even close to be being here.
"He's g-gone," Avery was barely able to choke out, before Bellatrix had him by the neck, her eyes a distant black. Already, the sharp ends of her nails had drawn blood as they dug deep into his skin. One nail in particular, struck close to a thick, pulsating vein. It quickly picked up rhythm with each bit of pressure she applied.
"What?" she hissed. "How is this possible? That pathetic little bastard was already heavily warded with suppression magic! All the two of you had to do -," her voice softened to a most deadly whisper, a sadistic lilt in its undercurrents, " –was watch him."
"It's a trap! They set this up! It's a trap!" Nott gasped, his lack of energy fueled by his desperation. "We were lucky to get away, the others -"
He fell as Rodolphus' curse caught him mid-sentence.
Something clicked in the back of Bellatrix's mind as she whirled on her heel, hand reaching for her Dark Lord. "My liege!"
It was already too late. A second blue shield had gone up, effectively trapping Voldemort with Granger.
.+.+.+.
Voldemort had very few chances to be surprised so on the rare occasions it happened, he couldn't help but laugh. He glanced at the impervious-looking witch, green eyes flickering briefly to her glowing wand. In turn, she studied the striking, yet chillingly composed young man, having expected a humanoid-reptilian in his stead.
"You knew. How?" He was curious.
She didn't answer right away and he could tell it was because she was choosing her words carefully.
He had thought he was privy to all that had happened between his Death Eater and this mud-witch. Apparently, something had been lacking in the pensieves he'd collected from Rabastan.
"His kiss. I knew something was off when he first kissed me." The emphasis she placed on the word proved she wasn't talking about the young Malfoy heir anymore. Her voice was soft but strong and her wand glowed ever brighter with each spell Bellatrix and Rodolphus cast upon the shield. The more the magic involved, the brighter her wand grew.
"Sickening." His smile only seemed to emphasize his words that much more.
He saw the brief flicker of repulsion in her eyes.
She didn't hesitate to agree. "Yes. But it had to seem real so that your – ," she paused, tilting her head to the side in a show of deep thought before speaking again, " – servant would think it was."
Perceptive little wench. Her words were no less than truth. Rabastan Lestrange was one of his most discerning followers and would have immediately worked it out if something had been the slightest bit off. Voldemort grinned, Tom Riddle's bright whites flashing. There was true amusement in his actions. "You did more than just that."
She lacked the temerity to keep from blushing. Red dusted her cheeks though her gaze remained unwavering.
Voldemort scuffed the ground with his shoe as he tucked his hands into his pockets, looking far too leisurely for her liking. It was meant to seem shy, insecure, absolutely characteristic of what a young schoolboy about to be scolded would do, and he was quite clearly anything – everything – but. He was mocking her, the situation, the war. No doubt a contingent of grown and experienced wizards and witches, allied with England's largest pack of werewolves, could do more than a bit of harm to a small organization run by a group of three youths, hardly in their prime, with more soldiers incapacitated than not. This was the thought most foremost in her mind.
His gesture only served to make her grit her teeth harder and tighten her grip on the slender vine wood. He finally spoke, his rich baritone voice lacking the usual hiss.
"I particularly enjoyed the bedroom scenes." This time, she did look away, a frown upon her face as he turned a half-smile towards her.
"Which leads me to believe that you've not yet bonded with the Malfoy creature, even knowing how dangerous that is for both of you. Had you done so, we wouldn't be standing here right now."
She visibly bristled at this.
He continued as though it was of no consequence. A shrug was added for good measure and he pulled his hands out of his pockets. His wand followed. "I was wondering why that insignificant piece of waste was so volatile. But no need to worry, Miss Granger." He tapped his temple with the slender piece of wood in a mockery of good faith.
Hermione's finger twitched.
Green eyes peeked at her from under heavy lids as a particularly malicious smile made its way onto his face. "We took very good care of him."
"If you've done anything to him." It was a deadly statement and her voice a different sort of soft. She drew herself to her full frame and there was a hard look in her eyes as they seemed to look down at him from her head-shorter vantage point.
He touched the symbols carved on the ground with his toe, pulling back when pain seared his foot. This was ignored in lieu of watching her once more. At his back, he felt the shield strengthen with each spell his Death Eaters threw at it. He had to admit, it was a brilliant piece of magic. She seemed rather adept at making her enemies turn on themselves and without their knowledge.
"It doesn't matter anyway," she finally spoke, matching him eye for eye once more. "Harry and the others will have retrieved him from your care by now." A strange look crossed her face. "And who knows? Perhaps he might have even heard something of importance during his stay."
There was silence in the air as Voldemort absorbed the suggestive nature of her words.
The last piece fell in place. Now he understood. The play-along, the unusually poorly defended compound, the fact that she was still here while she could have easily -
He felt a palpable wave of anger pushing his magic. It was all because of that pathetic offspring of Lucius', who could barely handle taking his mark much less anything more, all because the whelp defected to the Order -
- and certainly all before he'd realized they'd been tricked.
No. He didn't get tricked. He couldn't be tricked. Not by her. Not like this.
Voldemort's eyes flashed red as he conjured up a ball of blood pulled from the soaked field mixed with that morning twilight's dew. Her eyes widened and her face paled just as a stag summarily appeared on the top of the hill shouting a message in Harry's voice for her safe return.
Too late.
It was usually the simplest solutions that were the most effective –
– blood for blood.
He let the spell go, the viscous liquid splashing over her marks, and the air around them shimmered blue for the last time. She quickly cast a basic shield as he threw his first jinx at her and then slowly backed up, fumbling in her robes for the Portkey. His Death Eaters quickly rounded on her adding their own special mix to the deadly medley.
She began to sag underneath the constant barrage of spells, jinxes and curses. While her original shields had sustained itself through the energy of each curse they'd thrown at it, it had taken more of her own magical energy than a normal shield would have required in putting them up.
Not that she had planned to use anymore magic after it so there wasn't, or hadn'tbeen, need to worry.
Hermione gasped as she felt the last vestiges of her reserve magic slither into her shield, then fell completely as Bellatrix's Cruciatus hit her simultaneously to Voldemort's body-bind. The galleon coin dropped from her hand and was kicked several feet away.
She didn't scream or convulse, but went ramrod straight as the curse ravaged her body before it stopped and she choked in relief. Her breathing was hard and heavy, tears cursing down her face as the deceptively handsome guise came into her view.
"An eye for an eye. A witch for a wizard."
The ferocity in his now-blood red eyes made her tremble and his Parseltongue speech cause a whimper to rise from her throat. She didn't know the language but she somehow understood it all the same.
"You will pay for this."
She was struck with another – and much more potent – Cruciatus for good measure.
"You're mine."