Chapter Two

Hermione was getting more anxious by the minute, and anxiety wasn't an emotion she was familiar with. The room began to fill as people returned from the Quidditch World Cup, their respective missions finished. The Dark Lord had not yet returned. She turned to look at her friends, who were trying to hide their own unease. Hermione knew she had gotten them into this mess.

"I'm telling him it was my idea," she told them, leaving no room for discussion, "It was stupid of me to think I could get my way on this—you're not going down with me." She expected an argument, but before anyone could speak, the door swung open. Hermione didn't even have to look up to know it was Him—everyone had gone silent. The only noise to be heard was his footsteps as he walked to the head of the table. Her breath hitched with nerves as his pace slowed as he passed her, but he didn't stop walking. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. You made your bed, time to lay in it.

"Good job, my friends," he began, once he had taken his seat, "Potter has successfully gotten the message, and I hope your night was fruitful as well," he waved his hand, and a list appeared in front of him, "Let's hear how our Mudblood extermination went."

He began going through the list of names of the targeted Mudblood Ministry employees, and the Death Eaters began to regale him with stories of their corresponding demises. Hermione was only half-listening, though not well, and only snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the Dark Lord repeat himself.

"Well? Alastair Thompson—the Head of the Muggle Liaison office? He was nearly at the top of the list, I will be very disappointed if no one managed to dispatch him."

"I took care of him, my Lord," Hermione said, quietly, not looking up from the spot on the table she'd be staring at. She did not see the shocked and impressed expressions of the people around the table, or the brief flicker of realization on the Dark Lord's face.

He nodded, without saying anything, then continued with the list.

"Draco, Blaise, and Pansy, come up here." The Dark Lord ordered. Hermione looked up quickly, making eye contact with Him for the first time since the meeting had begun. She could feel the anger just in that glance, before he rose to his feet as well. He stood in front of her friends, staring at each of them before speaking.

"Now, if I recall correctly, the mission I gave you was to distract Potter until I tracked your location and arrived. Am I wrong?"

"No, my Lord," they chorused. Hermione contemplated getting up. Why hadn't he called her name—he knew as well as she did that it was really only her fault.

"Then where was the confusion, my friends?"

"We wanted to see the look on Potter's face when he found out you had returned, my Lord," Draco said, repeating Hermione's own words.

"And where did you get this idea?" He asked, twirling his wand casually around his fingers.

"We all thought of it, my Lord," Draco replied.

"Crucio," the Dark Lord hissed and before Hermione could blink, Draco was on the ground, writhing under the Unforgiveable Curse. Hermione jumped to her feet, and rushed over to the group.

"It was my idea," she said, hastily, "You know it was my idea."

"I do know," the Dark Lord said, shortly, not looking away from Draco, as he held the curse for longer.

"Hermione," Draco managed to groan, "it's fine."

If anything, that seemed to make the Dark Lord angrier.

"So long as your friends put their loyalty to you before me, this will continue to happen."

"It won't happen again, my Lord," she said, "I promise."

He lifted the curse without a word, turning it to Blaise without even a glance in Hermione's direction.

"Crucio."

Blaise fell to the ground with a moan. Hermione made to move toward Draco to help him up, but someone grabbed her arm. She spun around, to see Barty Crouch Jr., with a serious expression on his face.

"Don't intervene," he said, quietly, "It will just make it worse for them—and for you."

She pulled away from the man, but didn't move toward Draco again; he had pulled himself to his feet anyway and was standing there subserviently, staring straight ahead. Hermione could see Draco shaking slightly, with the aftereffects of the Curse, but he suppressed them quickly. Good, Draco, she thought, show your strength. Hermione turned to look at Blaise just as the Dark Lord lifted his wand, ending the Curse. Using the distraction against Him, Hermione pushed into the Dark Lord's head. Have you proven your point yet, my Lord, she asked, trying to keep the ire out of her voice. As he turned his wand to Pansy, he replied, until you've learned obedience, no. Pansy cried out in pain as the curse struck her. Hermione took a calming breath, practicing compliance, as the Dark Lord commanded. You don't control him, she told herself, he controls you—and all of us. I was foolish to think otherwise. This is how it is, and how it's supposed to be.

The Dark Lord lifted the spell off of Pansy, waiting until she, too, rose to her feet. And then, with a flick of his hand, gestured for Hermione to join them. She walked over to the group immediately.

"Crucio," he said, quietly. Hermione let out a low moan, falling to her knees. She continued to stare at Him, though he was looking at her friends—bating them, warning them that whom they displayed their loyalty for would be crucial to how the rest of this evening played out. Even out of the corner of her eye, she could see that they didn't move. Good, she thought, through the pain, it's about time this child's play ends—it's Him we should be loyal to. He ended the curse, finally turning his burning gaze to her. She rose unsteadily to his feet.

"Now, does everyone understand where their loyalty must lie?" The Dark Lord asked, looking at each of them in turn. They nodded, before returning to their seats. She cast an apologetic glance at her friends, and they responded with small smiles. She knew they were willing to go down with her from the beginning, and now that they had learned their lessons, she knew there was no going back.

After the meeting had concluded, Hermione drew herself tiredly to her feet. She was about to walk out of the room, when the Dark Lord called her back.

"Hermione."

She headed over to him, standing before him until he gestured for her to sit.

"Do you need something, my Lord?"

"You killed Alastair Thompson tonight." It wasn't a question.

"It needed to be done." She said, frankly.

"Your sudden outburst in the woods makes sense then."

"I had that plan long before my little bout of Dark Magic." She admitted.

"I warned you what happens when you begin to practice," he said, casually, "and somehow, I don't believe you would have gone through with this scheme without those effects."

"We'll never know," she said, "but you've proven your point tonight. I'll not cross you again."

He grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger, examining her face with a thoughtful expression, but the threat in his eyes was clear.

"I'm sure that you won't."


Author's Note: I know this one is short, but I'm happy with where it went. Hermione has been a little sassy these last few chapters, getting a bit cocky, but I'm sure that brought her down a bit. Please review and make my day! I have a stressful night ahead-I have to make a speech, AAAH, I hate speeches. Tell me what you think of this chapter, and I'll see you next time!

Personal Update: It was a speech for an election for my co-ed fraternity... and I lost. :(

Thanks BooksAndOreeeooo, Aghaliam, Midnight Little One, Narnia and Harry Potter 4 EVER, PurebloodsDoItBetter, AmayaBlack, DragonMistressOfRedemption888, Carlaisabel, KylieeJuliet1993, atlas-graceland, LadiePhoenix007, not really sane fairy, and three guests for reviewing. 20 reviews in one chapter-keep it up! :)