Chapter Thirteen: Dreams, Desires, and Death

The Madam's House - Stratford-On-Avon, England

Tuesday, September 5, 2000 – Wednesday, September 6, 2000

Hermione woke on Tuesday morning with another migraine. She pinched her nose between her index finger and thumb, rubbing, and sighed, keeping her eyes tightly closed. Last night's dream had been different. This time, instead of her own memories being prodded and relived, she'd seen the world from a completely different view: Harry's remembrances.

It was the night of the Yule Ball, and Harry and Parvati had just met up with Ron in the entrance to the Great Hall. Through the throng, the threesome made their way through the mob of students massing in the Entrance Hall over to Ron's date, Padma. Fleur and Roger walked past, and Ron dipped down to hide himself.

A second or two later, Malfoy appeared at the top of the steps leading down into the dungeons. He handsomely wore high-collared, black velvet dress robes that Hermione hadn't given a single thought to at the time, but now thought made him look rather dashing, and at the same time, still very much untouchable. Pansy was literally hanging off of Draco's arm in delight, her frilly, pale pink robes very fashionable – and just revealing enough to make it clear what she was after.

The oak front doors to the castle opened then, and in marched the Durmstrang students; in the front ranks, her fifteen-year old self came striding in on Viktor's arm. It had been the first time she'd actually seen herself from the outside, and she was quite stunned, honestly, by the vision of her smiling face and her confidant poise as she was escorted towards the spot where McGonagall had called the Champions to gather.

What she hadn't noticed that evening, and was only aware of now, was the look on Draco Malfoy's face when she'd waltzed into the room. As if she were standing in a Pensieve, she was able to quite freely move around the vision, and so she left Harry's side the moment Malfoy had appeared and moved across to the Prince of Slytherin. Now, she had a front row view of his slowly widening eyes as he recognized her, and of how he swallowed nervously then licked his lips as she walked past him. The mask of cold indifference was firmly back in place in a heartbeat, but she had seen it as clear as day. There had been definite interest – lust even – in Malfoy's steel grey eyes as he had taken in her visage.

As her 'dream-self' walked off without a second thought to Draco's reaction, her 'visiting-self' was also forced to move. Harry's memories were made up of his subconscious cataloguing of the things he had seen only, and so when his attention shifted to a different view, she was forced to go along for the ride.

She was suddenly aware that Harry was gazing at her and Krum in the receiving line at the Great Hall's entrance, only just then figuring out who she was. His jaw, literally, dropped open as he catalogued her appearance with open shock. As the doors to the converted dining area opened and the students filed passed the Line of Champions, Malfoy walked by with Pansy. From this angle, she could now see him peek out of the corner of his eye at her, beneath his long, golden lashes as he sauntered past casually, pretending for the world that he could care less about any of the proceedings. Pansy was openly gaping at her as she, too, recognized who had come as Viktor Krum's date.

The memories shifted then, as if Harry was purposefully sifting through them, looking for specific things.

He was seated at the large, round table at the top of the Hall with the other Champions and the Tournament Judges. Attempting to placate Percy Weasley, who was sitting at his side in substitute for Barty Crouch, he engaged the man in polite conversation, while alternatively picking at his goulash that he'd ordered from the dinner menu. He also listened in while Dumbledore verbally sparred with Igor Kakaroff. However, as he did these things, his eyes were roaming about the Hall. This allowed the older Hermione to walk freely about the area to the extent of what his subconscious had picked up during those minutes he'd been panning the room. She automatically headed for Draco's side.

He was sitting at one of the large round tables on the far right of the room. It was obviously Head Slytherin territory. To Draco's left was Pansy, to his right, Blaise Zabini and his date, Daphne Greengrass. Crabbe and Goyle, dateless and dressed in horrid, mossy green robes that almost matched, sat on the other side of Pansy. To Crabbe's left was Theodore Nott and his date, Tracey Davis. Adrian Pucey was surrounded on either side by the Carrow twin sisters, having obviously come with both girls (his arms were about both girls' shoulders). Millicent Blustrode sat next to Daphne, completing the circle. Malfoy, she noticed, was seated in a chair that gave him a perfect, unimpeded view of Hermione, and he stared at her often throughout the meal.

She wished she could hear what the group said, or even what Malfoy said to his date. Unfortunately, from Harry's perspective, the room was too noisy, and he was focused on the conversation at his own table instead. Still, for long moments she observed in surprise Draco watching her younger self, curiosity and fascination in his gaze.

The dream released her, and she floated back up into consciousness, stabbing pain trailing in the wake of her passage. She sat up in bed just as Pansy appeared with her morning breakfast tray.

The rest of her day passed uneventfully, with her confined to her room as Theo and Phaedra both slept off last night's romping about. Pansy came in with lunch and dinner with updates (Theo had gone home around three p.m. finally) and she'd started in on the tome that Pansy had given her about Asian Vampires, though, which helped to pass the time.

By ten o'clock, she made ready for bed. Before she slipped under the sheets, on a whim, she reached into her Bag of Holding and pulled out the titanium serpent's ring Malfoy had given her. She'd been careful to keep all jewelry inside the bag and hidden away, but right then, she needed to feel close to him for some reason, so she slipped it onto her right ring finger.

As she slid under the covers, she stared into the glittering, unblinking emerald eyes of the snake and wondered once more how he was holding up. Her heart was never far from thoughts of Malfoy, it seemed. They'd only seen each other for a short while before they'd been separated again by fate. Although it had been only a few days, it seemed like an eternity in these enclosed, suffocating walls since she'd heard his voice. She recalled the vision she'd had last night of his fourteen year-old self watching her during the Yule Ball, and then matched it up to the memory of the look he'd given her just before she'd apparated away off that beach in Kirkwall… The same longing existed, and could not be hidden, even behind such carefully composed features.

Draco, she thought, closing her eyes, wishing she had the same gift that Vampires did with mind magic, so she would be able to talk to him across the miles, inside the safety of her mind. I miss you.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but just as Hermione was drifting off to sleep, she could swear she felt the ring constrict around her finger with a gentle squeeze.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Pansy was sitting on the edge of the bed when Hermione awoke the next morning. The dark-haired woman passed her a breakfast tray carefully, balancing it to assure that the cup of strong coffee she'd brought up didn't spill in the exchange. With a stretch and a yawn, Hermione took the tray, thanking her one-time rival for her consideration and kindness. Despite the fact the coffee was coal black and tasted bitter, she finished it all, munching around a croissant at the same time.

Thankfully, last night had been dream-free, so there was no headache to incapacitate her today.

Sensing a strange vibe on the air, Hermione looked up to find Pansy staring at her right hand. Obviously, the Queen of Slytherin recognized the symbol – and who it belonged to. She was frowning mightily. Hermione didn't say anything, just stared at Pansy as she continued to eat and drink.

"Theo's coming this afternoon for you," Parkinson informed her. "He says something's changed, and that he can't leave you here for even one more day. I'm not sure what's going on, because his message was very curt, but I suspect my mother will move on you tonight."

Hermione's attention snapped to immediately, and she swallowed her mouthful quickly. "What do you mean?"

Parkinson sighed. "When she touched you the first day you came here, I'm sure she sensed Cor all over your aura. And now that Theo has claimed to want you for his own… Phaedra's a jealous woman, Granger. Your life was forfeit the moment she knew you'd touched her regular boy-toy, much less the man she's been trying to make her second dedicated paramour for the last year. I tried telling you that the other day."

Hermione considered this. "Phaedra wants Theo, too?"

Pansy nodded. "Badly. Apparently, he's very… well endowed… and vigorous in bed. Enough to please my mother anyway."

Fire crept up Hermione's cheeks as she recalled the feel of Nott's rather sizable erection pressed against her. She cleared her throat, not wanting to think of Theodore in such a fashion. "Okay, so why hasn't your mum come after me yet? She's had days."

Slim shoulders shrugged. "Theo's been distracting her. She's too heavily sated after sex for at least a day or two to be bothered with anything. But she didn't ask him to come back today, and I think that's the sign Theo's been waiting for." Pansy passed a croissant over to Hermione without thought. "He's good at reading people, Granger. I trust him. If he thinks it's going down tonight, then we're breaking out today - all of us. It might be our only chance."

Hermione ran a hand through her tangled hair. "How many exactly?" she asked, "And what was your plan for getting all of us out of here together?"

Perfect, rouged lips pursed. "There's twenty-four of us total, including me, you, Theo, Fay, Astoria and Daphne," Parkinson counted up. "The floo in the back bedroom is our way out. Theo's going to open one on his end, apparate to the edge of the wards around this place, and he's going to make out like he's coming here to visit you for a quick fuck. He'll bring you down to my room, masking your aura with his own when he crosses into the North Tower. I'll have gathered all of my people into my room by then." The former Slytherin brushed her bangs back from her forehead. "I'm not sure how we're going to apparate everyone to your group's location, though. I was hoping you'd had a plan for your own escape that could facilitate."

Hermione nodded. "Portkey. Three jumps. Everyone's going to have to hang on, though, because they're pretty small items. That many people, I'm hoping no one gets lost or misses a jump."

Pansy swallowed, knowing what that might mean for the unlucky person left behind. "It's a chance we have to take."

Nodding in agreement, Hermione considered the plan carefully, seeing it as the only logical option.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Theo appeared bang on time at one p.m. He quietly closed the door behind him. "You ready for this?" he asked wearily. He looked really worn out.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, concerned, jumping to her feet immediately and putting the book on Asian Vampires away in her Bag of Holding.

Her companion shrugged. "I'll be fine. We have to go though. No time. I'm sure Phaedra's sensed me by now, if she's awake."

He helped her collect her things, putting her wand back into her Bag of Holding and passing it off to her. She slipped it into her pocket, turned his wand on her to transfigure her features and then cast a Disillusionment Charm on both of them. He opened the door to her bedroom and carefully looked about, then snuck them out.

They managed to get only as far as the first floor of the North Tower before she felt their Disillusionment Charm ripped apart by some invisible barrier, and suddenly, they were exposed completely. The butch guard she'd spied the first day she'd been brought in rounded the corner ahead of them and stood casually in the middle of the route, as if she'd been waiting expectantly for them. Theo stiffened next to her, and he stepped back, pulling Hermione behind him. He recovered quickly. "Out of the way, slave," he sneered, his back straightening as he resumed the role of the vicious Death Eater. "I'm to see your Mistress, Pansy."

"I'm sure you are," came a familiar, crooning voice behind them, cutting off their only retreat. Hermione began quaking in her shoes even before she laid eyes on Phaedra Parkinson.

Theo turned his head casually, affecting nonchalance at being caught roaming the halls with his captured sex chattal. He gave The Madam a once over. "Perhaps you'd rather I lodge my complaint to you, then, Phae?" he asked, pulling Hermione in tight to him, pressing his wand against her back so she'd know he was prepared for a fight. "My woman hasn't had access to a proper bath in days. I expect that to be corrected for what I'm paying you."

Mrs. Parkinson's smirk was lazy as it wound up her cheek, and in her gaze – which was centered on her, not Theo - Hermione saw that the game was up. Phaedra knew who she was.

"I'm hurt, Theo," The Madam stated, although her tone was anything but triumphant. "That you didn't want to come see me again today. We've had such a nice time the past few days." Her lips pursed. "But then, I suppose that's what a good distraction is all about, is it not?"

Despite their cover blown, Theo kept up the disguise, probably hoping to throw enough doubt into the mix to give them an opportunity. "Well, I couldn't have you very well trying to touch what's mine when my back was turned, could I, Phae?" He lowered his voice seductively. "And besides, you know I enjoy spending time with you."

One dark eyebrow twitched upwards. "Do you, now? Well, then, you're in luck. It seems we're going to be spending much more quality time together now."

"You can just give me that wand now," another voice directly behind them made Hermione's heart start racing, "Or I'll simply Avada you both with one shot. And what a shame that would be."

Theo froze. Hermione looked up over her shoulder into his dark eyes and saw regret and resignation. They'd been caught. She knew what that meant. Apparently, so did Theo. He nodded, and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, he was Petrified. Toppling over stiffly, Hermione caught her friend before he hit the floor. In a flash, she reached for her Bag of Holding, cursing herself for not having her wand out and ready, but the feel of wood pressed to her temple stopped her short.

"Tsk, tsk, Granger," Cormac McLaggen taunted, and she felt him dissolve away transfigured features with a non-verbal spell easily. "Wouldn't want to Petrify you, too, now. Where would be the fun in that?"

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

Cormac kept her tightly pressed to his rock-hard body, his wand at her neck when Phaedra reversed the Petrification spell from Theo – but not before prying his wand from his fingers. She then Silencio'd him and had her butch guard tie his hands behind his back and gag him.

The two were hauled through the corridor to Phaedra's private quarters, where Theo was dumped on The Madam's bed. Cormac pulled Hermione forcibly along to the couch, where he sat her between his legs and pulled her back until she lay against him. He kept his wand against her throat on one side, and bent his lips to the skin exposed on the other side. Behind her ribs, her heart was jackrabbitting a mile a minute.

Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…

"I've missed you, Granger," he murmured against her skin hotly. She shuddered in disgust. "Have you missed me?"

It took her two tries before her courage returned. "Not really. I haven't given you much thought at all." It was a blatant lie, but there was no way she was letting this twisted animal know she'd even given him a second of consideration, much less that she'd been practically destroyed by what he'd done to her.

"Shame," he teased, flicking a tongue out to play with her earlobe. "Perhaps I'll have to refresh your memory then."

On the bed nearby, Phaedra had cast Incarcerous on Theo and he was now bound to the metal posts with wire. She was crawling across him, a hot, lusty look in her shimmering, exultant eyes. "I suppose your bitch Mistress told you I was here," Hermione attempted to keep him talking, stalling, buying time to work through a way out of this mess. If only she could reach her wand in her Bag. It was in her left pant pocket – right where Cormac's free hand was touching her, as if he could sense it there.

McLaggen chuckled. "She sent me a note a few days ago, yes, but I was busy on an errand for the Dark Lord. I only got in this morning."

Hermione sniffed in disdain. "And like a good, whipped dog, you came to heel."

"If you'd like to think that," he whispered in her ear, sounding supremely confident that what she had said was absolutely not the case. Was Cormac not so loyal to The Madam as he pretended then? His free hand roamed over her crotch and she closed her legs abruptly, trapping him in a steel grip to prevent his perverted wanderings. He actually laughed this time, amused by her attempts.

She tsk'd in annoyance, trying not to let her internal terror override her lion's bravado, as it had the last time she'd been under his control. "What happened to you, Cormac?" she whispered, disdainfully. "You were a charming boy in school. I liked that person."

He bit her shoulder hard, making her cry out in pain. "Did you now? Could have fooled me, Granger."

She thought on how bitter he sounded, and realized his meaning instantly. Twisting around to try to look him in the eye, she gaped. "Are you mad at me… for that Christmas party in Sixth Year? Seriously? Are you kidding?"

His handsome features were twisted with a sneer of hatred. "You played me that night, slut." His free hand skimmed up her body and grabbed her left breast rather hard, pinching the nipple cruelly and he smirked when she cried out again at the hurt he inflicted. "But I got you back, didn't I?"

She held his gaze, despite the sharp bite he was delivering. "Cor, stop this," she demanded. "If I hurt you, I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention. But this… this isn't who you were. This war has driven you mad."

He narrowed his eyes venomously. "You have no idea, Hermione." He swooped down and kissed her, crushing her mouth. She bit him hard, but he pinched her nipple spitefully again and she pulled back with a gasp. He licked the blood off his lips, angry, but undeterred. A vicious electric jolt hit her through his wand, and it hurt, making her limbs go numb. She screamed. "Now behave or I'll Crucio you until you beg me to stop," he threatened seriously.

Terrified, Hermione stared at him in horror. "What happened to you?" she asked again, vehemently. "What happened to the boy who wrote me such pretty poetry, asking me to go out with him again after that night? You were a Gryffindor – 'brave and true,' remember? How could you become a Death Eater – a Tracker? How could you do such vile, cowardly things, Cormac? How could you?"

The princely blond said nothing, but she saw the tick in his jaw where he was obviously not pleased by her line of questioning. He kept his eyes on his lover across the room instead, focusing on what Phaedra was doing to avoid answering her. "You should know that she's going to do terrible things to your boyfriend over there," he leered, indicating with a nudge of his chin to where Theo was now being stripped of his clothes by Phaedra. He slowly turned his gaze back to hers, and in his honeyed orbs, she saw cold apathy.

"He's not my boyfriend," Hermione countered angrily, lifting numbed fingers to try to fight off his hand as it crept around her waist to forcibly turn her so she'd have her back to him once again – so she'd be forced to watch what The Madam was doing to her friend.

Cormac grinned at her, his luminous eyes shining with mirth. "I know. It doesn't matter anyway, since you're mine now, at last," he gleefully explained. "The fun's only started, Granger," he mocked as she squirmed in his arms, trying to pull his increasingly insistent hand away. "Relax and enjoy the show. Imperio."

Hermione felt the mind control spell take a firm hold of her consciousness in an instant. "I said relax, Granger," McLaggen directed her, and her body eased back into his without further complaint, turning as he indicated and seating herself back between his legs comfortably. "That's good," he uttered against her ear. "Now, I'm going to touch you, and I want you to enjoy it naturally. Pretend I'm your beloved and we're making love." He said the last cruelly, but Hermione's mind interpreted his words as orders, and so when he started molesting her, her body responded. Helplessly, she screamed inside the confines of her mind and tried to fight against the control he wielded over her, but it was a vain struggle as he pressed his will - backed by the spell's strength - down upon her, tamping it effectively.

Within minutes, Cormac grew bored feeling her up over her clothes, and decided to move things along. "Stand up for me," he spoke gently to her and she obeyed. "Turn around to face me," he commanded and she did. "Now, take your clothes off." Her hands moved, pulling her shirt up and over her head, throwing it to the floor. Her bra followed. Then, she bent and removed her shoes and socks. Next, she unbuttoned and unzipped her trousers. Pulling them and her knickers at the same time down, she shed the last of her decency and awaited his next command. She felt her cheeks blazing with shame and embarrassment, but was unable to do anything to prevent it; she was entirely at McLaggen's mercy.

Her former schoolmate's golden-brown gaze appreciated her for a long minute before he put his wand down on the floor next to the couch and held his arms out to her. "Come here and straddle me." She fought him with everything she had, and could taste the sweat over her lip from the effort. He simply grinned and crushed her resolve brutally with a mental kick to her magical spirit. "Obey me," he demanded in that same soft tone, and with no choice, her legs moved to do as he wanted.

When she was seated on his lap, he wrapped his arms about her waist. "I've definitely missed you, Granger," he tenderly told her, rubbing up and down her bum. "I've thought about our last time together every day since," he admitted in an intimate whisper. "You're the girl for me, I decided a long time ago, and nothing's changed since. Everyone else was just pretend until we could be together again." He tilted his beautiful, devil's face up to hers. "Now kiss me."

Hermione bent her lips to his, but he stopped her just before they touched. "Kiss me like you would Draco Malfoy," he amended with an evil sneer. Her eyes closed, and her body adjusted to the new condition placed upon it, her fingers tentatively moving between them to stroke his cheeks with soft caresses. All her mind could see was Draco in that moment and she kissed the man under her very, very tentatively, a soft, quick pull of lips that moved away nervously, as she would if this were really Malfoy. She shyly pulled back, shaking, and her lids peeked open to see Cormac's face, a mirror of puzzlement.

"That's not how you kiss your lover," he bitterly informed her. "I want you to kiss me like you do him."

Hermione blinked. "I've never kissed Draco Malfoy," she evenly informed him.

McLaggen's face became incredulous. "Don't lie to me! I demand you tell me the truth."

"I've never kissed Draco Malfoy," she reiterated, forced now to precise veracity. "I've never touched him sexually. He isn't my lover."

Cormac's attention turned to Phaedra on the bed. "You told me she was fucking that Malfoy brat," he accused, wicked pissed now.

Hermione couldn't see what The Madam was doing to Theo, but she was obviously occupied sucking on something, given the kissing and slurping noises in the background, and so she didn't bother replying to the indictment. Cormac's whole body was rigid and tense with anger.

"You're the only man I've had sex with," Hermione continued, compelled by his order to continue to tell him the truth. "You took my virginity when you raped me. I hate you. You hurt me. You've done so many horrible things, Cor. You're a bad man."

Panting in fury now, McLaggen grabbed her upper arms and shook her once. "Shut up," he hissed and Hermione shut her mouth as ordered. He grabbed the back of her hair tightly, fisting it, and dragged her mouth down to his. "Kiss me like you want me, damn it," he snarled, and Hermione had no choice but to obey.

His hands roamed every inch of her then, kneading, stroking, pinching, slapping. When he parted her thighs and inserted two fingers into her, and she whimpered at the pain of being opened up once more – the last violation had been him, over a year ago - he stopped and pulled back, staring at her in shock. She stared down at him silently, unable to speak because of his orders, but her tears flowed nonetheless, dripping onto his cheeks and pulled downward by gravity so as to make him appear the one crying. They locked gazes. In that moment, she saw something she'd never thought she'd see: Cormac McLaggen's doubt.

He withdrew his fingers from her body and moved her off him. She was laid back into the couch gently, and then he stalked over to Phaedra and pulled her bodily off of Theo with violence. "You bitch!" he screamed in her face. "She's never touched him! You lied to me!"

Hermione saw his mistake the instant he had made it. The Madam – the strongest Sex-Witch in centuries – simply pressed her hand to Cormac's face and he shut down, a prisoner to her desires now. "What does it matter, darling?" she crooned to her now-complacent lover. "The woman is yours. Go take her as you've always wanted." She shoved him back towards the couch, but Hermione could feel her aura palatable in the air as it followed McLaggen's retraced steps, compelling him in a very similar manner as the Imperius curse was compelling her.

Cormac crossed back to her, his eyes hot with lust now, his face dark with the need to possess her, and he fell upon Hermione, pushing her back into the couch, his mouth frenzied over hers. "You're going to let me fuck you," he growled against her lips, and her body loosened itself at the charge and she lay limply, crying and silent as he began shucking his clothing.

When he was fully naked, he pressed himself over her, kissing her lips with bruising force. He commanded her to stroke his cock and to touch herself so she would be wet for him, and Hermione fought again, but in the end, the Imperius Curse was too strong and her body reacted as required. When he was ready, he told her to enjoy what they were going to do, and to participate fully, and then he slid inside her with a moan. It hurt, as he was big and he stretched her ill-used body out once more. "You belong to me," he whispered lovingly to her. "You see, Granger? You're mine. You've always been mine, just like I dreamed. We're together now."

In her head, Hermione screamed for Draco again. Please, help me. I need you!

Her right hand burned, and she turned her head in time to see the snake ring Malfoy had given her magically come to life. It released its tail from its mouth and slithered up her arm towards Cormac's face, which was buried in her shoulder as he pounded away inside her, oblivious to the danger. Stunned, and still under the command of the Imperius Curse not to speak, Hermione could only lie there and watch as the silver snake with the glittering eyes made its way sinuously around her bicep towards its destination. What would it do?

She lost track of it behind Cormac's blond, wiry hair, but an instant later, he slapped away at the side of his cheek and howled with pain, withdrawing from her body and sitting back on his haunches. "Ow!" he hollered, rubbing his face, at first lightly, then with increasing fervor. "That fucking hurt! What the hell did you do?"

He hadn't exactly given Hermione any orders, so she lay there submissive and silent, watching him scrub away at his flesh. When he moved his hand enough, Hermione glimpsed two small pricks of blood welling up from his golden skin.

"Answer me!" he demanded, and now Hermione had no choice but to talk.

"The snake bit you," she told him matter-of-factly.

McLaggen looked around, but clearly saw nothing resembling a snake nearby. "What the fuck are you talking about? Explain."

Hermione blinked once, forced to speak the truth. "The snake ring I was wearing. I forgot to take it off this morning to hide it before you captured us. It was a gift from Malfoy. It came alive and bit you. I don't know how."

Cormac's eyes widened in fear. "What is it exactly? Where is it? Where did it go?" He was chafing his jaw and cheek now, and Hermione noted the skin was dusking, flaking where he rubbed.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. She looked at her right hand, which still rested on Cormac's Dark Marked forearm, but the ring had not returned. "It was a gift. I don't know what it is other than a ring. It didn't come back. I don't know where it went."

He started screaming then, clutching at his face. The skin under his fingertips was blackening into necrotic tissue.

Phaedra finally took notice of the proceedings, and she jumped off the bed and approached warily. "Cor? What's happening?" Her sultry voice was tinged with fear.

Cormac jumped up and started scratching at his face, tearing gouges into the flesh. "It burns," he shrieked. "Do something!"

The Madam stared at him, dumbfounded for an instant, and then she moved forward to touch him with her wand. Before she got within ten centimeters of him, she withdrew several steps with a hiss. "Assassin's magic," she identified the aura and backed away as far as she could, hitting the back wall of her room, her eyes wide with panic. "What did you do to him, you bitch!" she screeched at Hermione.

As Phaedra was not her Master, Hermione was not compelled to answer her. Instead, she lay passively on the couch and watched as Cormac McLaggen's face slowly disintegrated in a blistering, peeling, ashy mess. He screamed and screamed, reaching for his wand, trying any spell he could think of – Finite Incantatum, healing spells of all sorts, even Aquamenti. Nothing reversed or slowed the slow crumbling of his skin, which was spreading, now enveloping his jaw, heading for his perfect lips and nose, bleeding downwards and upwards at a steady pace.

Whatever the spell was, it distracted Cormac enough for the Imperius Curse to evaporate, and in an instant, Hermione was on her feet, her will her own once more. She reached for his wand and Stupefy'd Phaedra before the woman could come to her senses and act. Then, she turned to Cormac.

For an instant, as she looked at his dissolving face, she felt horror at what she had unwittingly wrought upon him; what was happening to him was ghastly. And for a shameful instant, she considered letting it continue. After all he'd done, and after all the evils he'd committed, this seemed almost a justified end. A fair trade of pain for the pain he'd caused; an eye for an eye.

But this wasn't Hermione's way.

No matter how deserving a person may be to their fate, or how hardened she'd become over the years, she was no Death Eater to revel in the torture of another. Cormac's life was now hers to decide what to do with, and she chose a path that felt right to her. Lifting her wand, she tried every spell she could think of as well to slow the tide of the damage. Eventually, she turned and looked towards the couch, seeking the ring, and found it lying amongst the cushions. She picked it up – perfect once more in its circular form – and did something she didn't think she'd ever do: she begged for Cormac McLaggen's life to the Dark Magic.

"Please, don't let him die this way," she asked it. "Help me save him. I don't want this."

The ring's eyes glinted in the firelight from the hearth, and then the creature moved, changed again, the eyes bleeding their normal color to a citrine yellow instead. She brought the slithering ring up to the twitching Cormac's other cheek and hoped, prayed. The thing bit down on his fleshy side of his face, and instantly, McLaggen's body shuddered, going stiff. His eyes wide, his chest heaving, he went still. Whatever magical, ancient poisons the ring carried seemed to work, as the degeneration of his face and neck stopped, and there was no bleeding out. The devastated skin did not repair itself, however, and after several seconds of waiting to see if it would and noting it remained the same, she finally lifted her wand and cast a healing charm over his damaged face. Slowly, the skin knitted back together. It would scar permanently, and he'd be uglied, but at least he'd be alive.

She let out a relieved breath and looked down at the ring in her hand, which had resumed its shape, its eyes returning to their normal shade of emerald. "Thank you," she breathed, and she swore the thing winked both eyes in acknowledgement at her. She slipped it back onto her hand, turned and redressed quickly, casting an anti-pregnancy charm on her belly, just in case (although Cormac hadn't finished in her, she was still not taking chances), and then cast Incarcerous at both Phaedra and Cormac, to assure neither could move – which seemed likely anyway, since Parkinson was unconscious, having smashed her head hard against the wall earlier when Hermione hit her with the stunning spell, and McLaggen was in shock, lying unmoving on the floor.

She turned to Theo, who was staring at her like he wasn't sure whether to worship her as a goddess or cringe from her in terror. She cast to remove the wires from his body, and healed him. She turned her back to give him privacy then, and he righted his clothes and gathered his wand from where Phaedra had placed it next to her bed on a side table. Her attention returned to Cormac's injuries once more in the interim, making sure the healing spell was taking root.

"Why did you do that?" Theo finally asked in the silence of the room, his voice truly disconcerted. "Why save him? I would have let him rot."

Hermione sighed. How could she explain? She struggled for the words, but finally came up with the simplest explanation. "Because no one deserves to die like that."

Theo snorted. "I beg to differ. If anyone has earned a painful death, it's that bastard at your feet."

She touched Cormac's face gently, and his eyes shot to hers, beginning to bleed out of shock and back into sanity. His whole frame shook from the adrenaline starting to pump through his veins. "You wrote such beautiful poetry once," she murmured to him, unsure as to why that mattered, or why she'd even speak of it. "What happened to that boy?" she wondered again sadly.

McLaggen blinked back sudden tears, but they steamed silently down his face despite his attempts to banish them. He said nothing, perhaps because it hurt too much to talk, or perhaps because he didn't know how to respond, but regardless, Hermione saw the regret over the loss of his innocence and strangely was moved to pity. It was not enough of a feeling to allow her heart to forgive him for all he'd done, but it was enough to know that she'd never, ever want to end up like him. This war, she decided firmly, would not take her sanity or her personal morality from her, as it had Cormac McLaggen.

"Let's go get Pansy," Theo offered her a hand up, and she took it. "I think she has some unfinished business with her mother to attend to."

With a weary sigh, Hermione accepted Theo's help and regained her feet to the crackling of her knee joints, and the two headed out towards the opposite end of the wing, their continued hold on each other's warm hands necessary to remind them both that they were alive.

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

The group of twenty-four loyalists to the insurgency split up into teams of eight (one group for each wing of the former dormitory) to free The Madam's House of its shackles. Struggles echoed throughout the hallways for three hours, but thankfully, Pansy had managed to steal many of the confiscated wands back from her mother's collected stash prior to her attempted escape, so the group put up a valiant fight and eventually, with the help of the workers, who had suffered abuse and torment at the hands of their clients, the final count was four dead Death Eaters (no one of consequence on the rungs of power, unfortunately), six dead Snatchers (two of whom had worked for Fenrir Greyback), and two dead prostitutes. When the fighting ended, the survivors who didn't want to join up with the cause (which was the majority – numbering only thirty total to offer their service) grabbed what they could – clothes, food, whatever small belongings they'd managed to hide away over the years – and after having their tattoos burned off their bodies, they headed for the hills, running out the front door and into the darkening streets.

Hermione, Pansy, Theo, Fay, Astoria, Daphne and Su headed back towards Phaedra's suite when the fighting had ended, leaving the others to stand watch at the front door and to move throughout the rooms to collect what goods they could (Hermione transfigured a bunch of Bags of Holding on the fly for them). When she crossed the threshold into the Madam's room, Hermione's eyes were drawn to the carpet before the couch. Cormac was gone, fled somehow from his bonds. His wand, which Hermione had dropped on the carpet heedlessly when she'd left with Theo, was missing as well, which gave her a clue as to how he'd escaped. Phaedra, however, was right where Hermione had left her, still unconscious. It would seem that her former housemate had left his traitorous mistress in the end to her fate, perhaps out of retribution for her supposed deceit.

Hermione stood side by side next to Pansy and put her hand on the Slytherin Queen's arm as the woman stepped forward. "Wait."

Pansy whirled on her, wand in Hermione's face, fury stamped across her features. "Let me go, Granger. I thought you, at least, would understand!" she accused scathingly.

Staring calmly down at the wand before her, Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Who says I don't?" she countered, grinning like a shark. She pointed her wand at Phaedra again and with a perfectly executed Levicorpus, she brought the woman's body back up onto the rumpled bed. "Su, could you come here, please?" she requested over her shoulder, sensing the presence of the others hovering in the hallway outside, keeping an eye out for trouble. The Asian girl was suddenly at Hermione's side, having made no noise, as silent as a cat. "Will you do me a favor?" she asked the half-Vampire.

Su nodded. "Anything," she replied. Apparently, being kind to a Vampiress had its perks.

"I need to know what's in her head. Death Eater names, locations, Mort's plans, any special spells that she may know, etcetera. Can you get that information for me?" Hermione asked.

Almond eyes narrowed, and then Su nodded. "With pleasure." She stepped into the room fully with a grace that made every woman Hermione had ever seen walk – including Phaedra – look clumsy by comparison; Su practically glided. Phaedra didn't even twitch when her artery was pierced by the half-Vampire's sharp canines. Hermione crossed her arms and looked at Pansy out of the corner of her eye, smirking. "This we need, since we're losing your network."

Parkinson smirked and shrugged. "As long as I get to kill that bitch when Su's done, I'm okay with it."

Hermione reluctantly nodded. She'd implied her help in Pansy's revenge when she found out the woman's tragic story, and as a woman herself, she sympathized. Being raped was horrible; being raped and force to enjoy it by the misuse of magic by your own mother – the one person you trusted all your life never to hurt you and to care for you, as she'd been the bearer of your life… that was unforgivable. "Make it a quick death," she gave in with a deep sigh, knowing that if she denied this personal justice to Pansy, the woman would turn her back on them forever. This was the only way to keep her on their side. Still, she would make her conditions firmly known, and brook no argument or tolerate any deviance. "No torture. We're not Death Eaters."

"Fine," the dark-haired witch agreed, reaching behind her back and drawing out the knife sheath that Hermione had given her a few days ago. She withdrew the blade and looked at it carefully, then back up at her mother. Her grin was wholly evil. "I know just where the opening in the ribs is to get to the heart, anyway."

X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X

The group left The Madam's House with finality around eight o'clock that night, assuring everyone was out of the buildings and all that they wanted – including bedding, mattresses and bathtubs shrunk down for easy transport, food, clothing, toiletries and an assortment of odd baubles, all shoved into the fantastic Bags of Holding – was stripped from the place. They withdrew into the safety and shelter of an alley across the street as Hermione raised her wand and cast Fiendfyre on The Madam's House, burning it to the ground, cleansing the world of its filth and depravity once and for all. It took less than eight minutes for the three wings to collapse, and for the fire to start seeking out new targets. Using all her will, Hermione countered the casting and the demonic flames were instantly extinguished.

This spell, she decided then and there, would be her counter to Morsmordre from now on.

"Everyone ready?" she asked, holding the first of three portkeys – a leather man's belt – in hand. Theo took the other end, stretching it out. "Grab on." She waited until every hand was touching the item, and then spoke the charm for activation. That weird feeling of being pulled and dangled by a hook through the guts took hold and shutting her eyes, Hermione and the others left Stratford-On-Avon hopefully for the last time.

TO BE CONTINUED…

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

The events I detail about the Yule Ball come directly from the novel, not the movie!