A/N: Thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews!
Two days after my last update for Lies, my computer decided to freak out and it is thanks to Hubby that I am back up and running! I did lose half of what I had already written for this chapter and it took me longer than expected to rewrite it.
Are there any full webcomics of Harry Potter (Hermione-centric) fanfictions out there? Am I just not looking in the right spot?
Chapter Nine
Hermione ran her fingertips over the bolded blue lines of Nurmengard's walls. There was a certain aesthetic about them that drew her eye. Nurmengard was strangely beautiful and well thought out. Master builders of magical architecture from all over the world had a hand in creating the prison. It truly was a work of art. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind that this set of blueprints would be highly coveted by nearly every government in the world. And not just because it would give them access to him.
The blueprints laid flat and unfurled on her massive desk, each corner held down by a different magical artifact as she poured over the document. She had very little experience with building magical dwellings but that didn't prevent her from being in awe over what she was looking at. Every room had a purpose, every line, every curve, every single bit of material.
"Mistress, Jesper brings lunch," the straight-laced and bossy head elf announced, startling her out of her reverie.
"Thank you, Jesper, leave it over there by the chair." She gestured to the set of wingbacks and table near the fire. Jesper narrowed his eyes and pinched his lips, running his disapproving eyes along the line of Hermione's body.
Clothing that she had gone to bed in was wrinkled horribly. Stains from various projects covered the sparse tank and her small shorts had several small and frayed holes near her right thigh. Her hair was wild and untamed. Curls stuck out haphazardly here and there, giving her a slightly mad appearance. At some point in the morning, she had gathered her curls into a crude bun on top of her head, but the hair had obviously protested as it was threatening to abort mission, one curl at a time. To make the look complete, she wore no shoes, opting instead to walk around barefoot.
Jesper could barely conceal his horror. What if someone came to call? She wouldn't answer the summons dressed like that, would she? But the compounding dread in his stomach told him otherwise. She probably wouldn't even think about what she was wearing. Even if it was the Minister of Magic at the door.
Jesper slid the lunch tray on the small table that she had gestured to, grumbling and vowing to make sure that Kinder dressed her properly every morning before the Mistress was allowed to leave her bedroom. He would raise the wards to stop her himself. To think the noble line of Slytherin had to depend on such a woman to continue their prideful reputation. Jesper shuddered. He would make sure that no one, no one, would have reason to sneer at his mistress.
Hermione was still studying the blueprints and had missed every single muttered word.
A scratching at the window startled her again and she smiled as she saw an owl prettily waiting for her permission to enter. Quickly, Hermione strode to the window and let the bird inside to glide to perch on the back of her desk chair. Hermione followed with a smile on her face, reaching into the glass jar that held the owl treats.
After the owl devoured her offerings, Hermione untied the rolled missive attached to the owl's leg.
Miss Hermione Slytherin,
You have been cordially invited to attend the 200th Annual Prince Charity Ball. A fundraiser for the Hogwarts Underprivileged Student Fund. This year's theme is Masquerade. Please save the date, Saturday, September 25th. Dinner will be served at seven.
Jacqueline Nott
Coordinator
Hermione snorted and tossed the invitation to the side. It was highly unlikely that she would go. And Merope would have her hands full between her pregnancy and her husband, therefore it was unlikely that she would be forced to go by her. Leaving her desk, Hermione sat before her lunch and began appreciatively murmuring how lovely it all was, not even noticing Jesper, the sneaky elf, who slid the invitation into his palm, making a mental note to accept on her behalf. His mistress was of the old family. The Slytherins. And though she didn't like mingling with her equals, he knew that to miss the event would be social suicide. He knew his Mistress wanted Missy Merope's child to be well received by his peers and one day, he knew that she would thank him for accepting the invitation on her behalf.
**HGHG**
Two days later found Hermione sitting in Merope and Albus' Godric's Hollow house where they situated themselves after spending nearly a month on the continent. Even though a month didn't seem that long to Hermione, Merope's belly seemed to really pop. She was now four and a half months along and the happy glow of a contented woman stared back at her.
Merope was showing Hermione parcel after parcel of shopping- clothes for her, the baby, and even for Hermione. Because as Merope cheerfully said, Hermione didn't have a fashionable bone in her body. Hermione, of course, took issue with that but smiled all the same. Merope was happy and Albus surprisingly was incredibly doting on his pregnant wife. If she didn't know better, she would have thought them a supremely happy family, deep in love with each other and their unborn child.
Hermione didn't think it was an act, per se, but she didn't feel like it was an accurate representation of what things were truly like in the Dumbledore household. There was just something not quite right, and she couldn't put her finger on it.
"So how was your honeymoon?" Hermione asked while sipping tea, interrupting Merope's monologue about fashion in Paris vs fashion in the States, despite never having shopped in the latter.
"Just marvelous," Merope said. Her eyes lit up with acute pleasure, happy reminiscence stealing her away from the moment. She was stroking blue bunting, smiling a secret and intimate smile. "He is a much more attentive lover than Tom ever was," she whispered.
Hermione immediately threw up her hands to cover her ears, choking down the bile that rose in her throat. This is where she drew the line. She did not want to know what kind of lover Albus Dumbledore was. After several seconds, she took a finger out of her ear to Merope's uncontrolled laughter, clearly having a go at the uncomfortable witch.
"That isn't funny!" Hermione said with a grimace.
"Aw, Hermione, lighten up! If it makes you that unhappy I won't tell you what Albus is like in bed." Merope laughed even harder at Hermione's expense. It was one of the downsides to having a sister. Boundaries were non-existent, and no topic was taboo.
"So, Hermione, now that we covered what I have been up to, tell me about your adventures. To be honest, I thought you would have taken Grindelwald to heel by now."
"He is a slippery one," Hermione mumbled.
"and charming and handsome," Merope finished.
"and a liar," Hermione continued as if Merope hadn't said a word
"in love with you," Merope said.
Hermione talked over Merope, intentionally ignoring her input. "and a terrible flirt,"
"and in love with you,"
"Completely frustrating,"
"thinks the sun and moon revolve around you,"
"a bigot,"
"Did I say that he was in love with you? No? He's in love with you,"
"Lust is not love, Merope," Hermione finally turned her derisive gaze on her sister.
"If I were merely talking about lust, he would have tried a lot harder to get into your knickers…" Merope said with a smirk.
"I think he has tried and found it impossible,"
"So, you are telling me that you would never consider taking him as a lover? Never thought about what it would be like to be touched by such a man? You, Hermione Slytherin, are a filthy liar! I bet under the right conditions, you would drape yourself in silk and lace and artfully lay yourself out on a bed to entice him. You are a woman and you are also attracted to Grindelwald. Not to mention, you blush every time he gets near to you. I am pretty sure that your arguments together are a form of foreplay."
"I may have offered a night with him for his blueprints," Hermione mumbled under her breath.
"You didn't!" Merope gasped. She clapped her hands and moved closer, eyes shining like stars.
Hermione groaned. "That made me sound like a whore,"
"I understand what you were trying to do. You would have slept with him anyway but thought you might as well further your goal. I won't hold it against you,"
Hermione groaned again and covered her face with her hands. Embarrassment was the least uncomfortable feeling she felt at the moment.
"You would only be a whore if you were doing it for money. Like I said, I have no doubt that you were willing with or without the exchange."
"I didn't really trade sex for the blueprints. I thought that's what he wanted when he asked for the night, but he took me to a house to talk to this family about how they were mistreated by their muggle father. He left me there after I refused to join his cause. Even if I didn't have the vow to hold me, I still wouldn't join his cause. That's when I broke back into his camp and stole the blueprints. If he wasn't going to hold up his end, neither was I."
Merope snorted. "Admit it, you wanted him to jump you,"
Hermione groaned again and shook her head then nodded, then shook her head again. She sighed and dropped her hands, looking away from Merope who was wagging her eyebrows.
"Why does he have to be so damn charming?" Hermione muttered, disgruntled, lifting her teacup back to her lips.
Merope smirked and took a sip of her tea, eyes glittering with barely repressed mirth.
**HGHG**
"Fancy meeting you here," Grindelwald's silky seductive voice whispered into her ear as she perused the shelves of a small bookshop off Diagon Alley.
"Grindelwald," Hermione muttered as she turned around and stepped back into the shelving, away from him, trying to calm her traitorous heart. "What do you want?"
"What do I want?" he asked with an amused smirk and tilt of the head. "Aren't we coy today…"
Hermione sighed loudly and attempted to duck under his arm. He leaned into her on that side and she smacked her face on his chest. She looked up, rubbing her nose, absolutely furious. Staying silent, she waited.
"You haven't forgotten stealing my blueprints, now have you?" Grindelwald stepped closer and ran a single finger up her arm, smiling as she shivered.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," she said disdainfully, despite her twin rouge cheeks. With a casual flick of her fingers, the book she was leafing through sailed back to its spot on the shelf and Hermione spun, turning her back to Gellert.
She could feel him there, at her back, following closely behind her as she strode the winding stacks and shelving of the bookstore. It was at the last turn where Hermione knew she had made a grievous error. The pathway had led to a private reading nook which would have been quaint if it were not also a dead end, not the front door as she had hoped. She was trapped and his deeply amused chuckle from behind her let her know that he knew it too.
"Only you could have taken those blueprints, Love, don't try to take me for a fool," he said, and Hermione grimaced before turning around to face him.
"Okay, so what if I did? It's not like you were going to keep your end of the deal, while I had every intention of holding up my end."
"Who said I wouldn't have kept my end of the deal. You know, I may have apparated out in anger, but I was right back to that house within moments. By then, you were already gone. Who deserted who?" his smug look irritated Hermione to no end. And she didn't know what she wanted to do more; smack him or kiss him.
"You just left me in an unfamiliar place. You told me the deal was off! We didn't part well at all. What would make you believe that I would have stayed in that place one moment longer than necessary? You were an arse and I was not going to hang around Ingrid's home in the middle of the night, wondering when you would deign to come back. If you wanted a sycophant, you've chosen the wrong woman."
"I was gone for only the amount of time it took me to apparate away and then back. I wasn't gone but a moment. You do me a great disservice!" Gellert declared, the fire in his eyes burning hot and furious at the injustice of her statement.
"I'm not going to argue with you about this anymore. The truth is that you left me, told me the deal was off, and I took matters into my own hands. By my reckoning, I had fulfilled my end of the bargain. I was only claiming what was rightfully mine."
"Nurmengard will always be mine," Gellert growled. "And I would take her back,"
"Over my dead body," Hermione challenged.
"So be it," Gellert said before he swept her into his arms and crushed his lips against her, bruising her tender flesh.
Fire raced through her body, making every single nerve ending flare to life, desire pulsing and aching in her core. It was obvious that he wanted her just as much as he wanted Nurmengard, and that was a dizzying feeling. A powerful feeling. Because she knew exactly what Nurmengard represented.
Inhaling sharply, she realized her second mistake. She should never have given him the opportunity to touch her because she was putty in his very exciting, capable hands. He smelled glorious; all man and leather and woods. Not quite like his usual spicy scent, but it was as if he spent the last week traveling in the most basic of situations. Then again, he was an actively hunted criminal wanted for war crimes in every major country with a magical presence. He couldn't just apparate into the country without consequences. Which means he probably had traveled in less than ideal conditions. How did he continuously get into the country anyway?
It was embarrassing really, how long it took Hermione to return to her senses and to stop kissing him. Things couldn't continue. She was bound and he… he was determined. Kisses would only make her job more difficult than they needed to be. She pushed against his chest and turned her head away.
The first thing she needed to do was burn Nurmengard's blueprints.
"I can't," Hermione panted as she squeezed her eyes shut. She needed space and perspective.
"You can," he murmured burying his face in her neck, his arms tightening around her.
Silence fell between them where she fiercely denied him, and he refused to let her go. They stood there together, just like that, for much too long.
Slowly, Hermione pulled out her wand and let her arm fall to her side with knuckles white and pale as she clenched the wooden handle. He sighed and nuzzled closer, tensing. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Why was he just standing there, waiting for her to strike?
She lifted her wand and clenched her teeth before taking a deep breath. "Why aren't you running?"
"I'll never run from you,"
"I will capture you,"
"I will escape,"
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered in agony.
"You need to fulfill your vow, right? Then you will be mine."
"Capturing you will not satisfy the vow,"
"I can't stop fighting, and I can't have you. What would you have me do?"
"I would have you stop this war,"
"You know I can't do that,"
"What if I told you…" Hermione stopped abruptly. She couldn't believe that she nearly told him that in the normal timeline he would have been stopped in twenty years from now and would spend the rest of his life in his own prison only to be killed by the next up-and-coming Dark Lord.
"Keep going," He encouraged, still molding her softer, more pliant body against his. She could feel him, his heavy erection against her belly. It was distracting and made her want things that she had no right to want.
She pushed against his chest again but this time he allowed his arms to drop from around her body. She felt bereft, alone, and she wanted nothing more than a good cry.
"Magicis Vinculum," she whispered and iron manacles with magical suppressants enveloped his wrists.
"Hermione," Gellert sounded as if he was just as unhappy as she was. But she could feel it, the throbbing excitement in her bond with Dumbledore that the villain had been caught at last.
Hermione stepped into his personal space and slid her hand around his neck until she was cupping his nape and pulled him closer until their lips met. This had to be the last time that she kissed him. This blurring of lines was unacceptable, and it was time to grow up, time to follow through with her responsibilities. Time to let go of whatever this was between them.
If she married, not assuming it would be with Grindelwald, but anyone she married would be in Tom's life. Would Grindelwald be a good man to be exposed to? She already knew the answer to that. There was too much at stake to just follow her feelings. She didn't have such luxury. What about everyone she left behind? What about Draco and his daughters? What about the promises she made in her life and along the way to get her to this point?
The truth was that Gellert Grindelwald, as he was now, was not a good enough man to be allowed access to Tom. Letting go of the possibilities of what she had with Gellert was difficult. To let go of Harry, Ron, her parents, Draco, McGonagall, and everyone who died on the battlefield would be impossible. She couldn't have both and if she had to choose, she wouldn't choose Gellert.
There was too much at stake.
As she pulled away, she could see the sadness echoed in his eyes. He knew it was over, whatever this was, as well as she. The only difference was that he didn't know why. And she wouldn't tell him. That would be much too dangerous.
"What will you do with me now?" he asked.
Hermione threaded her arm through his and apparated. They stumbled a bit upon landing, but Hermione quickly steadied her charge. Grindelwald looked grimly across the cold and angry sea, his stare focused upon one of the harshest magical prisons in the world. Azkaban.
Seconds later an old wizened man pushed off the island in a small rowboat. So small that it would only probably hold two or three grown wizards at a time. One to row, one to guard, and one prisoner. For safety purposes, Hermione supposed.
The old wizard let the boat bump the shore and beckoned wordlessly to the two of them. Gellert may have been surprised that someone was waiting for them as if she had planned him coming to her on the exact date but she knew this had more to do with Dumbledore's foresight than her own. Someone was always waiting. Just in case.
Through the whole thing, Gellert stood there, stoically, waiting, not putting up a fight and it made Hermione exceedingly nervous. What was he planning?
Hermione pulled Gellert into the boat and watched as he sat down, hands still empty, even though she hadn't yet disarmed him. That was another mistake. One that she would rectify immediately.
Once she sat in the boat next to Gellert, she reached into his pocket and pulled out the Elder Wand. Hermione studied it, never actually having seen the wand up close before. Lightly, she ran her fingers over the worn elder wood. For such an innocent looking thing, it had seen its fair share of death. The wand felt warm in her hands, comforting as if the wand had been waiting for her to take ownership. To be honest, the wand felt similar to Harry. Powerful, misunderstood, persevering. Hermione smiled.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Gellert asked as he watched her as she studied the most powerful wand in existence.
"Tempting for those who should not have it, terrifying for those that should. This wand should be broken."
Fear filled his eyes and she could tell that he wanted to snatch the instrument out of her fingers and stow it safely back in his robe pocket. She had never been more tempted than in that moment for anything. Not that very first Hogwarts dessert spread when she was eleven, not her first kiss with Krum, not even her Hogwarts letter vindicating her as a witch. Keeping it for herself never crossed her mind. Not once. Only its destruction tempted her.
Hermione wrapped a hand over each end and tested its springiness.
"Don't," Gellert begged quietly.
"You don't need this," Hermione said. "No one should have this."
"That wand is as old as the sea. It's legacy, though bloody, is a rich one. Take it. Make it yours. Hide it. Just please, don't break it."
Hermione slid the wand into one of the hidden inner pockets of her robe. Breaking something like this deserved thought and understanding of consequence. She may yet break the bloody thing, but for now, she would capitulate to his request. Although she wasn't daft enough to believe that he wouldn't try and get it back. He wanted the blueprints and now the wand too.
She would have to lay down some of the most extreme protective wards. Blood wards. The Fidelius. Whatever it would take to keep it out of undeserving hands that would use it to subjugate. There was no other way.
When the boat bumped into the shore of Azkaban Island, she pulled Gellert out behind her and made her way to the citadel, knocking three times on the huge stone door. Several rough looking guards pushed open the heavy doors and stood there struck dumb at the sight of a young woman of slight build with a bound and pliant Gellert Grindelwald.
One of the guards gestured for them to enter first and she rose her chin a notch. She would not be cowed by Azkaban. They didn't venture far into the fortress before they were led into a small office of the Warden.
"Gellert Grindelwald," the warden said as he stood from behind his parchment cluttered desk.
"The one and only," Grindelwald smirked.
"Thank you, Miss Slytherin, we will take it from here."
Hermione nodded and turned to leave but before she could take more than a few steps, Gellert had reached out to her with his bound hands, grabbing her at the elbow. "This isn't over, Love. I'm coming. You better prepare. I have now gone to prison for you, to help you fulfill the vow."
"The vow will only be fulfilled when you stop your wicked deeds and stop trying to take over the world or you die or are defeated permanently. You already told me you were planning to escape the Dementors and this island. Good luck with that. But that doesn't sound as if I have stopped you." Hermione said.
"Is there a problem here?" the warden asked suspiciously, looking between the two of them as if he knew they were plotting together against him.
"Not at all," Gellert said without tearing his gaze from Hermione's. "Not at all."
Hermione yanked her arm out of his grip and was through the doors and back in the boat in record time.
"Tempus," she muttered with a flick of her wand. It was just past five thirty in the evening. She wondered how long it would take him to break out. Probably she had twenty-four hours at best. He did look most confident.
The first line of business was to secure the two things she had taken from him and the second she had a foot on solid ground, she apparated away, back to her house to gather the blueprints. She knew the perfect spot to hide them.
