Am I blabbering? Sorry ^_^! Anyway, on with the story!
DEDICATION: To my Harry Potter-fanatical friends in class: She, Katrin, Mela, Rina, AC... I love you guys! Thanks for all your help!
Disclaimer: All names related to Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, although I wish I could have Oliver Wood for myself ^_^! The Vial of Immortality is mine, because it plays a vital part of the development of the story.
Hermione looked up from the different books piling up on her desk. Two o'clock, already? She yawned widely, only dimly noticing that she had only gotten four hours of sleep. Crookshanks was sleeping peacefully on her bed. Brushing off the fact that she had dark rings around her eyes from the lack of rest she had been getting, she delved deeper and deeper into the book she was currently holding (Frequently Asked Questions in The Art of Dark Potion Brewing, Third Edition). Suddenly, she found the very paragraph she was looking for.
The Darker aspects of Potion-making originated in Devon, England, with the concocting of the Potion of Divinity. Comparable to Flamel's Elixir of Life, this substance is more coveted. When ingested, the potion can give you immensely great powers, but only used for evil, and can grant you immortal life. No one has been able to successfully brew the right combination of ingredients to produce the exact effect the Potion has been suggested to have. There is only one Potion currently in existence. Concocted by a alchemist's accomplice by mistake, he recognized the evil content of the substance and poured the liquid into a small vial, sealed it with a spell, and after burning the parchment that contained the procedure, fled. A conspiracy of wizards is reportedly searching for that Wizard Artifact, now known as the Vial of Immortality.
Hermione twirled the small, elongated pendant in her hand, watching the purple liquid dance from one end to the other. It was a stunning disguise. A piece of jewelry can easily be mistaken for the most highly coveted artifact in the wizarding world. Her fingertips gently grazed the single engraved word that had betrayed its identity to her. "Immortalidad," she whispered into the air. She shook her head. "You-Know-Who must be combing the entire world looking for this. Undoubtedly, he is behind the conspiracy that the book mentioned." Running a hand through her hair, she glared agitatedly.
"I need to keep it safe until I reach Hogwarts," she determined. "I'll need to send an owl to Dumbledore, as soon as…" She tried stifling a yawn, but failed to do so. She yawned so enormously that Crookshanks woke up with a jolt. Hm… maybe tomorrow… Right now, however, what she needed to do was sleep.
Ever since her Aunt Celeste came home from an archeological dig in Cairo three days ago and brought her the gift, she had only gotten approximately seven hours of sleep. "But this is more important," she said aloud, scolding herself for thinking such. She had known she had read about the Vial before—in one of her Potions textbooks she reckoned—she just couldn't pinpoint where she had. She was literally driving herself off her rocker. She would have gone mad if she hadn't found that tiny paragraph in that book just about now.
If You-Know-Who had gotten this… she shuddered at the thought. He would surely try to kill Dumbledore and most definitely, Harry. She couldn't let him kill them. She couldn't bear to think of them out of her life, especially Harry, her best friend and confidante. No, they wouldn't die.
Not when she could help it.
She gasped as she heard the fluttering of wings behind her, and let out a sigh of relief when she saw the familiar snowy owl. "Hedwig!" she cooed, leaning in to stroke the bird's head. "What have you got there? I say…" She knelt down and released the owl of its burden. "My my, how quickly Scarface replies. He must be bored to tears, the poor dear..."
Giggling softly, she tucked the necklace into her pajama top secretly and began to read Harry's letter. She was smiling the entire time. It was like he was actually there with her, sitting beside her, teasing her endlessly about the chocolate smeared on her chin. She loved how they were so comfortable with each other. The fond endearments, the jabbing jokes with each other, playing around in the common room, studying together... and of course, their late night shenanigans when they would stay up into the wee hours of the morning, talking and laughing about how ridiculous Professor Trelawney looked that morning in Divinations or complaining about the load of work Snape had piled on them just that afternoon.
Oh yes, she and Ron and Harry were still best friends but... nothing could ever compare to the special bond that she and Harry had developed and built over the last year. They still hung out together, even after she and Ron decided to break off their relationship and just stay friends. Right now, it was like they never went out with each other, and Hermione was glad. Being uncomfortable was the worst feeling in the world to her, so she was glad with the outcome.
Ron never really noticed the changes in Harry's and Hermione's friendship. Moreso, he never really thought about where Harry had been going every midnight. 'Probably thought Harry had to go to the washroom. My my, what a bladder problem Harry must have had,' she thought amusingly one day several months ago.
She bared her soul to him, spilling out her problems and realizations. Why she had to be a top student, why she and Ron became an item and why they broke it off, why she was so bossy in their first year, why she was so insecure nowadays… what she thought of her fellow students and teachers, what she thought of Ron's new girlfriend, what she wanted to be when she grew up, what she felt whenever any of her friends, especially Harry, was in danger… and even after hearing all those things including her first impressions of him (a stuck-up snob who got everything he wanted) he listened. He even threatened to curse the bullies that terrorized her in her primary school. Of course he wasn't serious… or so she hoped. If they took one of those fashion magazine "How well do you know your best friend?" quizzes that Lavender and Parvati often took, they would have aced it.
She sighed. She missed him. She missed him so much. The messy mop of black hair that she occasionally mussed up even more just to annoy him. Those green eyes that crossed in frustration whenever she explained the advantages of studying Arithmancy or discussed the rights of House-Elves. And his smile... the smile that was meant only for her. The smile that told her "Hermione Granger, you are my best friend in the whole world. I will always be there for you." Yes, that kind of smile. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger would stick together through thick and thin.
No, she definitely wasn't going to let him die.
Carefully folding the parchment, she placed it into her dresser drawer along with all the other letters she had received that summer. Strangely enough, the people who had sent her the most letters were Parvati and Lavender. 'And why, oh pray tell, are the sending you letters?' her conscience asked innocently.
She reddened, 'Because I asked them for some fashion advice so I wouldn't look like such a nerd anymore.' She imagined her conscience snickering at her and she rolled her eyes. 'Really, they expect me to wear Muggle cosmetics and perfume... and curl my hair with a Perming Charm! How ridiculous! I've got half-a-mind to ignore all of their suggestions.' She peered into her dresser mirror and ran a hand through her hair. 'And besides, I'm thinking of having a Muggle beauty parlor straighten it. What do you reckon, eh?' She glanced at a framed picture of Harry and Ron on top of her dresser. 'Really, Harold James Potter, you think that I'll be taking a trip to Bulgaria on the last weekend before term starts when I'm really going to the Muggle parlor? You are such a mindless git.'
Turning back to the snowy owl, who peered pensively at her. "Thank you Hedwig. You better go back home. Harry will be worried about you." Leading the bird to her window, she watched her soar through the sky, a bright vision against a blanket of night sprinkled with stars. She watched until Hedwig was merely a speck of white among the stars before she closed the window.
She collapsed onto the bed, suddenly realizing how exhausted she was. Snuggling up to her crisp, white pillow that smelled lightly of jasmine, she pulled the blanket over her and tucked it under her chin. "Good night," she yawned, before she fell asleep, Crookshanks purring peacefully beside her after he had calmed down from his earlier shock. She drifted into slumber, excitedly counting the remaining day left until September 1st.
She was so excited that she forgot to lock the latch to the window. Much to the malicious delight of the shadow lurking in the darkness of her house.
* * * * * *
A cloaked figure suddenly Apparated inside her room. Underneath the hood, he smiled sinisterly as he saw the young teenager, sleeping peacefully, dreaming of happiness and green meadows and peace and love… or any of such juvenile thoughts running through a Mudblood's brain.
His Master's orders were simple. Bring her to him, and keep her alive. He ran a scrutinizing gaze over her sleeping form. Why a powerful wizard such as the Dark Lord needed such a frail-looking pathetic witch was beyond his line of questioning. After all, how was he to know how the most powerful wizard in the world thought?
He brought out his wand and whispered a spell that made long ropes appear. Slowly, the ropes coiled around Hermione's still body, wrapping around her throat, her arms, legs and waist. Amazingly, she remained sound asleep until the ropes tightened suddenly, cutting off her circulation drastically. She awakened immediately, surprised and afraid. She gasped sharply at the instant pain. Her lungs clawing wildly for air, she struggled to remain conscious. But it was difficult. The ropes were digging into her skin, burning it; making her feel like her skin was on fire. Her chest was tightening torturously from the lack of air and her cheeks were tear-stained from the agony. She tried to scream but no words could come; she could only gasp and choke…
It hurt.
Make it stop.
Harry… make it stop. Please save me Harry…
"Petrificus totalus," a cold voice muttered. Her whole body stiffened and she couldn't move. Her eyes darted around frantically to try and alert anyone to no avail. But the ropes loosened to her relief and she could breathe again. Unfortunately her joy was short-lived. Suddenly she filled with a cold dread when she heard footsteps approach her bed. A body bent over her and she stared at the unfamiliar figure that was the source of her pain. He lifted his hand to cast another spell on her and she nearly fainted with fear.
The Dark Mark.
On his hand.
Her heart pounded as he grinned maliciously at her. "Good night, Miss Granger." The rope tightened against her throat once more, and she slipped into darkness…
* * * * * *
The Malfoy home was furnished richly, as the Malfoy's were a well-off family and the study was no exception. Leather chairs, mahogany desks, polished bookshelves filled with dozens of books (The Guide to the Dark Arts, The Escapades of Ethlion the Evil, So You Want To Be A Dark Wizard? And others) and Persian rugs specially imported from an Iranian wizard. Usually, this was Lucius' office. But tonight, it was the meeting place of Voldemort and himself.
Lucius Malfoy looked up as he heard the soft knock on his study door. He cursed under his breath. "What is it?" he hissed. "Who's there?" He stood up impatiently and took brisk steps to the door. He told Narcissa and Draco to leave them alone. They were discussing some important business and interruptions were greatly discouraged. He flung open the door and stared hard at the intruder.
"Farrely."
"Mr. Malfoy," the middle-aged man replied curtly.
"You were expected back hours ago," Lucius retorted hotly. "Lord Voldemort will not be amused at your lack of punctuality."
"I will be the judge on how to handle my followers Lucius," a cold voice murmured. They turned to the tall, robed man sitting in a high-backed leather chair. His scarlet eyes narrowed cruelly and a grave smile played on his thin lips. Farrely swept into a low bow and grunted, "Master. I apologize for my tardiness. I assure you that it will not happen again."
"Make sure it doesn't Farrely. Time is of the essence," Voldemort chuckled tonelessly. His mirthless laugh sent shivers down their spine. They feared him. He was too powerful, too wise to be called human.
And that was what he wanted. To be feared, respected and obeyed. How long had he wanted to reach this level of power. If it weren't for that Potter boy he would have achieved that feat long ago. But he shouldn't think about that now. He would make Harry pay, oh yes, he would pay, a very high price. A life for a life. He would be getting all the benefits of the Potion, and he could finally overcome Dumbledore, that bumbling idiot Fudge and all his minions and the Dark will rule. Stomp out all the Good and the Muggles and Mudbloods. They did not deserve the knowledge that they had acquired in Hogwarts. Soon, he would rule over them all. And Hermione Granger was the key to that. "Where is she? I would like to meet the infamous Miss Granger," Voldemort stated impatiently. He stared hard at Farrely. "Retrieve her."
Farrely obeyed, stood up and walked out of the room.
"I still don't understand why you needed to waste your time with kidnapping that friend of Potter's," Lucius snapped bitterly. Voldemort smiled, "Patience Lucius. You will know soon enough. Ah, here she comes now." Farrely re-entered the room, carrying the limp body of Hermione Granger in his strong arms. She was relieved of the Full Body Bind, yet she was still unconscious. Her lips were tinged with blue from the cutting of the circulation. If not from the faint rise of her chest, she would have been assumed dead.
Voldemort stood up. So this was she. The best friend of his enemy. How easy it was, to just kill her right then and there. It would be absolutely mortifying to Harry that his mortal enemy had killed his best friend. He chuckled. How tempting that sounded. To cause Harry as much pain as he had caused him. Yet, this Mudblood knew something. Something that he needed. Something that he had failed to retrieve several years ago. Now, it would be his.
Hermione opened her eyes slowly. She felt strange. She couldn't feel her arms and legs and her throat was raspy. She wondered why… Her sight cleared up and she realized she wasn't in her own home. If I'm not at home, where am I? She felt arms around her that made her stiffen. Slowly, her brain started to function properly. Memories of the previous night flooded her brain and she froze.
"Mudblood," a voice spat out. It was cold, unforgiving, merciless. She was spoken to with utter disrespect and vile contempt. It was a voice only described to Hermione during one midnight talk that caused Harry to cry on her shoulder. Only this time, Hermione was the one having to face it. How badly she wanted to cry into someone's shoulder right now.
She was dropped onto the floor quite abruptly. She wanted to scream as her body met a hard, carpeted floor, making her already weak bones weaker. When she looked down, she saw a long black velvet robe, much like the ones that Hogwarts students used. Except it was the cloak that belonged to--
"You-you… it's you." Hermione choked out, her breath backing up in her lungs. The pasty face, the cruel red eyes that flashed, the slits for nostrils and the unforgiving smirk… that was how Harry told her Voldemort looked like. Hermione knew what Harry felt. The fear at his smirk, knowing what he'll do will often lead to pain--a lot of it. Maybe even death. She shuddered, but forced herself to remain calm. She would stand up to him, just as Harry had two years ago. Then. And only then, could she be really worthy of Harry's friendship.
It was never an issue between them, but Hermione felt that Harry could have had much better friends instead of her. People like Ron, the Weasley twins, Seamus, Dean… but he had chosen her and Ron and that flattered her. But she had always felt that she should make up for it by showing she was just as good as he was, through academics. That was why she had to be a top student all the time. When she told Harry this, he brushed it off and said, "You'll always be great Hermione, whether you fail every subject or top them. We are always worthy of each other's friendship."
"Me, books and cleverness--there are more important things. Friendship and bravery… and Harry, just be careful." She had uttered those words to him five years ago, on the day that he was about to meet Voldemort in the third floor corridor. She wished she could have some now. Especially the bravery part.
She pulled herself together, and heaved herself off the floor. "What do you want with me?" Hermione whispered, glaring at the tall man--if you could call him a man. Then suddenly, it hit her. He wants the Potion… she realized with a jolt. Well, he's not going to have it. Not if I can help it.
He snarled, "I think you know what I want, you Mudblood."
She gulped nervously, "I don't know what you're talking about. You're insane." Lucius and Farrely's eyes widened at the insolence the girl had shown to the Dark Lord. They both stepped forward, wands raised, to curse the girl, but Voldemort help up his palm. "No. This is our discussion, Lucius, Farrely. Not yours." He glared at them and they shrank back. But they still held their wands in their grasp, and they both glared at Hermione.
Voldemort looked down at the short girl. She has nerves to stand up to me knowing I can kill her in seconds. Unless… she thinks I cannot kill her because she has the Potion. He chuckled. This was too simple. He needn't even cast the Avada Kedavra… at least, not yet. All she needed was a little… persuasion. "You are so full of bravery Granger. Much like young Harry. I recall hearing that he is your best friend."
She reddened with anger, "Don't you ever do anything to hurt Harry! I won't tell you anything! I won't give you anything! You… you… murderer!"
He threw back his head and laughed. A horrible high-pitched laugh that scared her, frightened her. "Call me a murderer if you want Granger. I prefer the term extinguisher. It is my role to extinguish all the Good, the Muggles and the Mudbloods. That includes you, your friend Ron and of course, Mr. Potter. Maybe you will change your mind if he accidentally got hit with the Avada Kedavra?"
She paled considerably, "You wouldn't…"
He held up his wand and it crackled ominously. "Do you really think I wouldn't? I've killed hundreds of people and I will not halt at the call of a sixteen-year-old Mudblood."
She glared. "What makes you so sure I have what you want? I don't even know what you want." She had to stall… she had to… otherwise, it would be the end…
"Oh I'm perfectly sure that you know what I want," Voldemort raised his wand and shouted "Imperio!" before Hermione had the chance to escape.
* * * * * *
AN: Ooh! Wicked! Finally some action! Anyway... review puhwees! :D
And btw! Thanks to all who reviewed the first chapter!
aquamanda - you like H/H too? ^_^! Same here! I really am leaning onto the HH side but if someone persuaded me...
Lord of All Magic And Necromancy - I'm glad you liked Hermione in this story. I like her too. Sarcasm suits her, doncha think?
...catnyeggy... - She! Heheh! Thanks for reviewing the story... don't worry, you're coming up soon...
Mela028 - Akiiiiii-chaaaaaan! ^_^! Thanks for reviewing! Glad you liked it... took you long enough to read it! :D Heheh!
Hopefully expecting more reviews next time? Next Chapter Three: Torture
PS... If you're wondering how Hermione
got the necklace, it will be further explained in the later chapters.