The Quill's Notebook
Hello my readers!
This is an utterly random story I wrote. It has no real placing in any of my other works. Just a bit of evil genius stuff going on. When I wrote 'Dictatorship', the first chapter of this notebook, I had an idea and it took me two ways. These stories are the two ways it took me.
I hope you enjoy: Revolution!
Chapter One: Revolution!
As the wards of his headquarters were breached by intruders, he shivered involuntarily, his magic feeling as though it had been violated. He closed his eyes and steepled his fingers, waiting for the doors to open and the trespassers to further infiltrate his sanctum.
He was not disappointed.
The black, oak double doors crashed open and the sound of dozens of military boots echoed on the wooden floor. The soldiers lined up against the walls of the long room, their muggle weapons pointed directly at him and his compatriots.
The room, in which they currently resided, had been the meeting place for his secret organisation. It was a long, rectangular shaped space, a large oak table filling the majority of its length. He sat at the head of the long table on a chair which could only be described as a typical evil villain cliché. Large and covered in black leather, it looked extremely menacing. It was a muggle swivel chair, but with a number of enchantments upon it, but none pertinent to go into at this time.
The space was normally filled with dozens of his minions, but today, he saw fit to only have three alongside him. The fools at the Ministry of Magic labelled them 'terrorists'. He preferred to be thought of as a 'revolutionary'. The starched witches and wizards that made up their corrupt governing body were threatened by change, and so, threatened by him.
He was surprised that the ministry Aurors had begun to use muggle weaponry. Normally, the pureblood bigots would never even think of stooping to the level of a common muggle. But then again, that was how he had gotten to such high levels of power.
Hearing the thunderous footsteps cease, he opened his eyes and looked at his comrades around the table, smiling serenely.
"Well, Comrades, it seems we have company. I believe our meeting will have to be adjourned until further notice." He finished with a chuckle.
The minions that sat on either side of the table were smiling evilly, none of them appearing to be the least bit perturbed by the large number of soldiers pointing weapons at them. Before any of the soldiers could speak, a woman dressed in a uniform similar to the soldiers stepped through the door.
She was relatively average in height, the majority of the male soldiers taller than her by a few inches. However, her posture and the look of determination on her face made her much more intimidating than mere height could. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, covered with a muggle khaki coloured cap.
Unlike the soldiers, she was only armed with a pistol, which remained strapped to her hip as she entered the room. She surveyed the room indifferently, before her eyes met those at the head of the table. Her breath caught slightly.
That lopsided smile which used to make her chest tingle with pleasure; the twinkle in his eyes, his emerald green eyes which could drown someone who made the mistake of looking too deep; his long, black, scruffy hair which demanded to be touched…she shook her head.
Replacing her calm, stoic mask, she took a further step into the room and looked at him.
"So, we finally caught you, Potter." She said with a smirk. "Took a bloody long time, but we finally caught you." He smiled widely, his eyes still twinkling.
"Oh, come now Captain Granger; I thought we were on a first name basis?" He said with a childish pout. She growled slightly in irritation.
"Stop with the chat. We have you surrounded; surrender." His smile never faded, if anything, it got wider.
"Hmm. I would agree; you do seem to have us surrounded." He agreed. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"Pull out your wands and put them on the table…slowly." She added.
The wizard laughed and shook his head in amusement, while watching his comrades putting their wands on the oak table surface.
"Ah, I'm afraid I haven't used my wand for over three years. I don't even carry it around with me." She narrowed her eyes, suspiciously.
"Well then, how do you explain your magical signature all over the places you and your minions have been?" He grinned at her.
"Oh, just because I don't use my wand, doesn't mean I don't perform magic." He said.
Just then, in a movement barely noticeable to anyone, including his comrades, his little finger twitched. At that moment, a large ethereal image appeared in the centre of the wooden table, moving slowly on the spot.
As Captain Granger watched, she could see that the projection was an image of earth. She narrowed her eyes at him and pulled her pistol out of its holster, aiming it directly at him.
"No more movements Potter." She growled. He laughed.
"Ah, but I don't need to make another move. That one twitch did everything." His smile devolved into a demonic smirk and he cackled evilly. The soldiers around the room shivered involuntarily, while Granger twitched. She took another step toward him.
"What did you do Potter?" She snarled. He sighed and nodded to the image.
"Quite simple really; when you were tracking me around the world, did you make any real effort to try and find out just what I'd been doing?" He said with a grin. Not waiting for an answer, he continued. "You see, if you had, you would have seen that I wasn't running from you…I was planning." He finished.
As the word 'planning' crossed his lips, a small red dot appeared on the ethereal globe – from a glance, she could see that it was somewhere in north America. The small dot began to move slowly, leaving a red line in its wake. She turned to him and frowned.
"What is this? What have you done?" He laughed.
"While I was travelling, I made preparations to seize control of the most destructive weapons on the face of the earth!" She gasped in realisation and paled.
"You haven't…you wouldn't…" She whispered, so he quirked an eyebrow at her in surprise.
"Hmm. Well clearly you don't know me as well as you thought, do you? Odd really, since you were chosen for this task because of our previous relationship…" He chuckled. With that, another image appeared next to the globe – a countdown clock. "It would seem that you have eight minutes left, Captain Granger." Regaining her composure, she snarled and re-aimed her gun.
"Stop the clock – now." She growled. His face turned cold, not a single emotion visible on his mask, and he leant forward, steepling his fingers once more.
"Or what?" He replied. She was silent. "As you can see, you are not in a position to be threatening me, despite having a gun pointed at my head." He smiled. "You see, should I die; every single nuclear missile on the face of the earth will fire at a pre-set target resulting in Armageddon…the end of the world." He intoned.
His voice was devoid of emotion. She shook slightly and looked at the faces of her men, who were equally terrified. They hadn't signed up for this. She steeled herself and glared at him.
"You're bluffing!" She spat. He chuckled, before his mask slipped back across his face.
"Are you a poker player, Captain Granger? I am you see…and I'm very good. Many of my comrades refuse to play me because of my excellent poker face." He stared at her. "You say I am bluffing…the question is, can you take that chance?" He said with a grin. She swallowed nervously.
"Where will the missile strike?" She whispered. He looked at the map and gestured toward the ethereal image. A new line had appeared; a blue line that trailed in front of the red dot, leading to somewhere in the middle of England.
"Birmingham." He said. Her eyes went wide. "Such a delightful city, full of so many interesting people…did you know that it is widely acknowledged to be England's second city?" He asked rhetorically. "There are 1,016,800 people; all of them completely unaware of the destruction that is coming." He laughed. She turned to him, her face pleading.
"Stop the countdown; please…" She begged. His face remained unchanged.
"I will stop it…if you and your men drop you weapons." He said. She blinked at him, before her eyes narrowed.
"This is a trick! You just want us to surrender!" She growled. He shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, don't try and justify yourself to me. I don't give a damn. Either way, my plans will move forward." He leant forward. "But are you really willing to risk the lives of the million muggles and the thousand magicals that live there?" He responded.
Her eyes flitted back and forth between him and the projected map. The countdown timer was still ticking down and the red dot was still moving. The clock now read six minutes. Seeing her tortured face, he decided to help her along.
"I'll tell you what; to help you see that I'm not bullshitting you, how about we watch some television, hmm?" He asked. With another twitch, another image appeared.
Projected on the surface of the wooden table, were the pictures from a number of CCTV cameras dotted around the city. Everything looked relatively normal. The wizard smiled before checking his watch.
"Now, let's just wait and listen. We should hear it soon." She turned to look at him.
"Hear what?" He smiled.
"Why, the five minute warning, of course." He laughed.
As soon as the words left his lips, a bloodcurdling wail began emanating from the projected images; the dreaded air raid siren that had inspired so much terror during the blitz. The people in the streets stopped and listened, before panicking in abject terror. They ran in every direction, the fear instilled from the dreaded siren causing the normally mild mannered individuals to erupt into an irrational frenzy. Seeing the panic, she pleaded once more.
"Please; stop this!" She cried. He stared at her coldly.
"You know my demands." He replied.
She looked around at her men, before sighing in defeat. She ejected the clip from her pistol onto the table and put down her gun. She turned to her men and tiredly spoke.
"Put down your weapons. Remove the magazines first." Some of the men immediately complied, but others looked outraged and refused to lower their guns.
"With all due respect, ma'am, he's got to be bluffing! This is all trickery to get us to surrender!" She glared at him.
"That may be true, but what if he isn't? I will not gamble with the lives of a million people, soldier! That is not my job!" He blanched slightly before putting down his gun. The rest of the soldiers complied, bar one.
"This is bull-shit!" He shouted. "I'm not letting these fuckers capture us because you were stupid enough to believe their blatant lies!" He spat. The wizard took this moment to speak.
"I feel I should warn you. The clock is down to two minutes." He said calmly. Captain Granger took a step toward the unruly soldier.
"Stand down soldier; drop your weapons." She said coldly. He looked at her disbelievingly.
"How can you believe this bollocks?" He turned to his fellow soldiers, who turned their gazes away from him. "This is utter crap!"
"One minute."
"Put. Down. Your. Gun." She ground out. He was silent for a moment, while looking around at the others.
"Thirty seconds." The wizard intoned.
Finally, the errant soldier's eyes met hers and he sighed. Ejecting the magazine, he dropped his gun. Seeing her final soldier drop his weapon, she turned to the wizard pleadingly. He smiled and flicked his wrist.
Projected on the globe, the red dot, which was very near its destination blinked out and the line faded from its surface. The CCTV images from Birmingham showed cheering people as they saw the destroyed remains of the missile falling down from the sky.
With a quick glance, his minions stood up and bound the soldiers, securing their guns as they went. They were about to remove them, before he held up his hand. Walking over to the last soldier who had nearly not complied, he pulled out his revolver.
"Despite what your leaders have told you, I do not enjoy endangering innocent lives in my campaigns, nor do I see them as expendable." He aimed his silver magnum. "Your foolishness nearly cost the lives of one million people. When someone threatens innocent lives, you never take gambles." He pulled the trigger, splattering the brains of the Auror onto the wooden floor. "Now you've learnt your lesson." He turned to the rest.
"At least the rest of you saw the need to surrender. As such, you will not be executed. You will, however, be our prisoners for the foreseeable future." He gestured to his minions, who dropped portkeys on the bound soldiers. "Farewell."
While this had been happening, Captain Granger had been directed into a seat, but been bound to it to prevent escape. After the soldiers had left, his comrades left him and closed the doors to the meeting room.
They would secure the building and repair the damages to the wards and structure while he was busy.
The wizard walked over to a cabinet on the far wall and pulled out a bottle of brownish liquid and two glasses, before retaking his seat. Pouring himself a drink, he looked at her and gestured.
"Would you like a drink?" She blinked, before nodding hesitantly.
"Yes, thank you." She said, quietly.
He poured her a glass and offered it to her, before flicking his wrist, unbinding her. He sat back in his chair and had a sip of his drink, enjoying the burn coursing down his throat. He sighed before replacing his glass.
"Single Malt Whiskey; can't beat it. Much better than Firewhiskey or Butterbeer, let me tell you." Captain Granger sipped hers slowly. They were silent for a moment, before she spoke.
"Why am I here?" He looked up, surprised she had spoken.
"Ah, but that's the great question, isn't it?" He said with a grin. She rolled her eyes and snorted at his attempt at humour.
"I didn't mean in a metaphysical sense." She responded. His smile dropped and he stared at her intently.
"You mean, why you are not imprisoned with your compatriots?" He asked. She nodded.
"Yes. What is it you want with me?" He sighed.
"I want to know why." He said simply. She cocked her head at him.
"Why, what?" He rolled his eyes and glared at her.
"Why, after thirteen years of being at my side, did you suddenly betray me and begin working for the ministry?" She blinked in confusion, before she steeled herself.
"I turned against you, because what you were doing was wrong." She said firmly. He gaped at her incredulously.
"What I was doing was wrong?! What the hell have you been doing for the past five years while working for them?!" He spat. "Arresting non-compliant muggleborns, treating sentient magical creatures like beasts, fighting against the remains of Order of the Phoenix…that's what's wrong!" He growled.
"What happened to the Hermione Granger I used to know? The one who founded S.P.E.W in fourth year? The one who spent hours knitting hats and scarves to try and free the elves? The one who spent hours doing research, trying to protect a Hippogriff from execution? What happened to her?!" He shouted. As he watched, he could see that she was fighting an internal battle; one that looked extremely painful. Her face contorted into a grimace and she gritted her teeth, forcing the words out.
"I…I-I turned against you…because y-you were evil…because you were fighting against the ministry…like Voldemort was…" She trailed off, clutching her forehead.
He went to retort, but he paused. As he studied her face, his face paled in realisation. Holding out his hand, his old holly and phoenix feather wand flew into his grasp. Her eyes snapped to him and regarded him curiously and with suspicion.
"W-what are you doing?" She said softly. He shook his head and laughed mirthlessly.
"I should have known. My Hermione would never have turned against everything she believed in unless she was being manipulated." He immobilised her in a flash and pointed his wand at her.
With a flick, he began casting diagnostic spells over the unmoving witch, occasionally pulling back and reading the results. After a while, he looked at her, sighed and shook his head sadly.
"I'm sorry Hermione." He whispered.
Before she could ask what he meant, a number of ethereal evaluations appeared at the end of his wand. As she read them, tears began to fall down her face. She had been the subject of over thirty mind controlling charms, curses and potions over the space of five years.
As she read the results, the wizard began cancelling the various enchantments, one by one, until the full gravity of the crimes she had committed became obvious. Her old self screamed in horror as its shackles were broken. Her world came crashing down around her and she burst into tears.
In a flash, the wizard was around the table and holding her as she cried. While she vented her self-loathing and the disgust at being violated mentally, Harry Potter stared out into open space, a dark glare etched on his face.
Harry had often wondered why his ally, his best friend, his lover had turned against him five years ago. He had wanted to ask her in person, but he had been forced into hiding, the ministry fully aware of his opposition to their regime. He had been forced to push the question to the back of his mind, until today.
After ten minutes, she began to control her emotions and looked up at the wizard that was holding her through old eyes – eyes which had been hidden for five years. As he looked down, his breath caught in his throat. Her brown orbs were lidded with pent up lust and longing. He swallowed slightly before smiling.
"Are you feeling better?" He asked kindly. Ignoring the question, she climbed into his lap and pulled him into a soul searing kiss, which Harry was only too happy to oblige. After a few minutes, she pulled away and stared at him, a dark smile on her face.
"Never better." She answered breathily. He swallowed again and suddenly felt very warm. She gave him another smaller kiss, before hugging him. "In answer to your question, your Hermione is here. Thank you for freeing me from that nightmare." He smiled.
"Not a problem. I'm just glad to have you back." He answered honestly. "This whole trying to overthrow the wizarding government was a lot harder without you around to help." He said cheekily. She giggled in response, something the controlled Hermione hadn't done in years.
"I hope that wasn't the only reason you missed me?" She asked huskily. His throat became extremely dry and his mind was clouded in desire for the witch he had not seen in years before him.
"Definitely not." He kissed her neck, before picking her up in a bridal lift and carried her out of the meeting room and upstairs to the bedrooms.
He had just gotten back his fiancé.
There we are!
A bit of an evil Harry, plus some evil Hermione. There isn't much to say on this one, I'm afraid. Just that when I was writing this, my inner evil villain was cackling in joy! I hope you enjoyed reading it!
This is the Quill, signing off!
