Chapter 25
'Aureolis.'
The dark room lit up, radiating light of its own accord, but Hermione couldn't see the source.
It was big—too large to be referred to as a room—the air smelled stale and she coughed. The walls were plain, made of jagged stone, and the floor was covered in a thick carpet of dust.
In the middle of all that bareness lay a sarcophagus, black and unadorned, and Hermione thought it looked grotesque.
The room was a tomb.
"Is that it?" She looked back at Tom.
He was running his hands all over the closed door, whispering, chanting, and she could see thin strands of magic slither all over the door's surface—he paid no attention to her words.
She turned towards the stone coffin, the grave, and walked in its direction—hesitantly at first, for it still intimidated her to be there, in that place—Voldemort was still irrevocably dead.
For now.
She still held Lestrange's wand in her hand.
Gods, she had blood all over her skirt.
Those people... Thomas had said they had no time to waste.
She shivered a little as she closed in. The black surface was made of marble and she was reminded of Dumbledore's grave.
She wondered how they had sealed it.
And more importantly, she wondered about who had sealed it.
"Don't touch it." Hermione snapped back into the present, her hand inches away from the cold surface and she closed her eyes.
Thomas had stopped her at the right moment.
She let out a small breath she didn't know she had been holding and turned.
"What did you do to the door?" she asked.
"Sealed it. It's locked." Thomas's face was still pale and so very... human. "I reversed the blood wards and linked them to my blood. It should hold for a while at least."
He looked apologetic.
She nodded silently and turned to the stone coffin once more. Tom had reached her side by now.
"Can they undo the seal? Will they come?"
"Yes, sooner than we desire. I am not infallible, you know."
She watched him wipe his face with a handkerchief.
"Infallible." She chuckled humourlessly . "No one is. All that people have is an illusion of invincibility. Even immortality must grow dreary after a while." Her voice echoed off the walls and sounded menacing.
She could laugh, she really could but she wasn't sure what that would do to her nerves.
Tom shrugged. He looked worn out.
"So what do we do now?"
She was asking too many questions.
Again and again.
It sounded stupid, really.
Thomas said nothing and moved over to the coffin's side opposite to hers. He didn't' touch it, she noted, but he ran his fingers through the air surrounding it. She didn't understand it; his actions were always unfathomable.
Without warning, he dropped to the ground and sat on haunches, staring intently at the dark marble. She could only see the top of his head now.
"Tom?"
"Just... don't talk, Hermione. I need to think."
Harry wiped the sleeve of his shirt over his brow.
Some dirt and muck still clung to his face but he wasn't too concerned about grime. It was the cold that bothered him.
He was freezing, stooped over the cold, hard and stony ground as he tried to cough and eject water from his lungs.
Snape didn't seem to be in better shape but at least he was reclining against the wall and not bent on all fours like an animal.
"W—we need to move, Potter," Snape sad gruffly and gasped for air, using his palms against his knees to balance his thin frame. "We don't have time."
Harry dragged himself to his feet as well and strained his eyes for clear sight. His glasses were inside his pocket.
"I think I can hear someone move up there." Harry leaned against a pillar and sneaked a look edgeways. "There is a turn around the corner; I can espy some light but I can't see much. We'll have to reach the corner to get some idea."
Severus seemed to have largely recovered his breath by then and he looked up at Harry with a dark expression in his eyes.
"Move back, and follow me." He motioned for him to fall back. "Quietly."
Their feet made very little noise, Harry noticed, even though the corridor was empty. He realised, as an afterthought, that Snape must have cast some charm on their feet to stifle the sound.
They stopped when they reached the corner and Snape gestured for Harry to halt. Harry could only see the back of Snape's head—the impossibly oily black hair falling to his shoulders and the drenched shirt that hung over his pants un-tucked—he didn't look quite as forbidding.
He wondered if Hermione was okay.
She had to be.
This wasn't a choice.
She just had to be.
He could hear people talk up ahead, even though he couldn't see them. Snape could, however, and Harry wondered what he saw. He held very still, one of his hands fingering the dark-coloured wand softly.
"I can't move this damn door!" Lestrange kicked the iron barrier violently. "This is a disaster; they weren't supposed to escape. Those two—aargh..."
Snape's eyes darted to and fro; he was taking in the scene intently.
Sheridan was dead.
Another fallen body lay beside Sheridan's corpse, an indescribable heap of blood and flesh, and Severus's jaw tightened.
Lestrange was alive.
As was one more of his cronies.
Escaped?
He stared at the sealed entrance behind Lestrange.
Hermione had managed to live.
And escape.
To the tomb beyond.
He would find her, make sure that she was lived... She had to, she couldn't die.
Not her.
He was worried, more about Thomas than Lestrange, and he knew he would have to act quickly.
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
"I am going to use a Patronus to distract them," he murmured, his voice deep and low. "Lose cover and stun the other Death eater. I will deal with Lestrange."
Harry nodded imperceptibly, his wand held resolutely in his hand and Severus caught a gleam of determination in his eyes.
Gryffindor courage.
'Expecto Patronum.'
White light whooshed though his wand tip—it was an indistinct shape, unlike the silver-eyed doe he was used to conjuring and it surprised him momentarily—he was brought out of his amazement by the sound of Potter rushing forward to fire a curse at their mutual enemies.
His brief lapse of attention almost cost Potter—Harry—his life. A jet of green light streaked towards him, launched from Lestrange's wand, and Harry ducked aside.
Not giving him another chance to take an aim, Severus fired a stunner at Lestrange and missed.
Potter had, meanwhile, managed to immobilise the other Death Eater and was trying to take cover as spell upon spell came streaking his way. Severus blocked it just in time and flung a curse at him.
"Reached finally, have you?" Lestrange was breathless as he fought hard against Severus's curse; his shield seemed to be cracking. "It doesn't matter now, Severus. I am as good as dead now that they have fled. The girl hit me with a rock. What a crude, muggle way of defending oneself, don't you think? No self-respecting witch would stoop so low."
Severus's curse crackled at seams and he had to struggle to reign in his rage. Potter was drawing closer to him.
"Drop your wand then, Lestrange." Severus's voice was level as he slashed his wand through air and blocked Rodolphous's curse. It hit the shield with a loud clang and vanished into thin wisps of dark smoke. "Your death does me no profit; you could still live."
Harry was sure it was a lie.
The strange gleam in Severus's eye told him that no matter how that night ended, Rodolphous would probably not make it out alive.
"Drop it? Just like that?" Lestrange chuckled and sidestepped a curse casually and flicked his wand. "Tell you what, why don't we both drop our wands and shake hands on our mutual defeat?"
His Entrails-Expelling curse hit Severus's shield squarely in the middle and it shattered like glass, broken pieces of the defensive spell flying in all directions.
Harry had his wand trained on Lestrange, just in case, while the two men battled ferociously. Severus had signalled for him to not interfere and he would not, unless it was urgent, and for now it seemed like they were evenly matched.
"Defeat?" Severus changed his position and rolled forward, closer to where his adversary stood, and brandished his wand in a bizarre, number eight pattern. "What makes you think that I am defeated?"
Rodolphous's eyes flashed in recognition and he made to avoid the curse by stumbling sideways. His foot grazed something embedded in the floor and he fell down, his wand flying out of his hand. Harry found his opening and summoned the wand to his hands. It sailed through air and landed smoothly in his outstretched palm.
"I'll handle it from here, Potter. Keep a look out," Snape called out behind him and moved over to Lestrange. He was bent on all fours, edging away from the approaching man.
Harry pocketed the spare wand and took a few steps in their direction.
"It's over, Rodolphous," Severus hissed and grabbed the Death Eater's collar, jabbing his wand into the man's throat and twisting it painfully. "You and I have a long history together and I think that we both understand each other quite well. I will spare your life if you answer my questions."
Lestrange's bloodied face turned into a hideous mask of viciousness as he fought against Snape's stranglehold.
"Questions, Severus? What for? I am a defeated man." He coughed and tried to jostle his face but failed. "I have failed and the Dark Lord shall never walk this earth again. But I can take comfort in the fact that you have lost too. She's going to die tonight, just like the other mudblood did. What a sore loss it must be, to have loved twice and lost. Fiona insisted that you don't care... that she is just a girl who could never interest your refined tastes but I thought otherwise. You care for her, don't you? Why else would you be here, apart from the obvious reasons... No, I believe that she is the main reason and everything else... an encumbrance."
Severus stared at Lestrange without any sign of emotion in his face, a vein twitching in his jaw.
"Did you really think that it was all over? The Dark Lord may not return but the one they call Thomas Stern will take his place. Not today, not tomorrow but one day he will be strong enough to claim leadership and rival the authority of this state. He was my protégée, Severus; I know him too well. Better than he does himself. And your child-bride will be his sacrifice at his altar of power. "
Harry couldn't understand a single word they he said.
How was any of this related to...?
Hermione.
Hermione.
She won't die.
"Your protégée..." Severus muttered, and Harry could barely hear it. "What do you mean by all this? Why now? Why this breach? And what motive did you have in coming here? Lestrange, this may be your last chance to save your skin..."
His voice was harsher than before; Harry felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck at the chill that radiated off Snape's words.
"What do I care for life, Snape. It is forfeit. But if you must know, Thomas has found a way to claim the Dark Lord's powers unto himself. You know what lies beyond the door, don't you?" Lestrange seemed to be short of breath and Harry could see that he was beginning to get delirious—the kind that sets in before one loses consciousness. "He has manipulated her, worked his wily ways and gained her trust and he will betray her. Before this night is through, she will die at his hands and he will emerge more powerful and virtually invincible. I will not live to see it but you might."
Harry saw Snape's face darken, his hands stilled and his wand lay frozen between his fingers.
Without a second's delay, he punched him.
He heard the fallen man howl in agony and looked away.
He couldn't see it anymore.
The bloodshed... her... his best friend...
"What do we do with the door, professor?" His voice sounded fearful, he noticed. It shook at seams and he fought hard to control nausea.
The harsh lines in Severus's face grew more defined as he kicked away the unconscious man and stood up. His shoulders seemed to stoop and there was a hint of hysteria in his eyes.
"It was sealed with blood wards," he said. "Those have been broken. If I had to guess, the door has been sealed from the other side."
"Can we open it?"
Severus looked at him with a strange expression on his face; he looked like a wounded dog bound and chained in a small cage, fighting to get out.
"No. Not unless we know how... it was sealed."
Harry stepped over the Death Eater he had stunned and reached for the iron gate. It was sturdily built and he thought he could espy faint humming of magic in its construction.
Perhaps...
No.
"What do we do?"
Severus stared at Harry's face with a blank look in his eyes for a long time before he looked away into the darkness that lay behind them.
"We wait."
Harry didn't think that sounded particularly optimistic. His friend was in danger. Hell, Lestrange had said that Thomas would betray her.
"But professor—"he began but Severus cut him off.
"No, Harry." His voice sounded shrivelled and crumbling, as if the weight of this world was upon him. "No questions. And no arguments. We'll wait."
Harry swallowed and looked at the door once again, praying that Hermione was alright.
Tom was taking too long, Hermione thought anxiously as she snuck a look behind her once again.
Her heart has stopped thudding in her chest. She was calmer, more peaceful, and yet a strange foreboding filled her mind.
He carved a figure on the dusty floor using the incinerating heat from his wand and she looked at the wand in her hand. It was dark and adorned with snakelike figures; she had to laugh at the mediocrity. They always chose snakes. She could understand the fascination, perhaps, but there were other symbols to highlight their belongingness.
She chuckled softly at her train of thought, feeling rather useless while Tom conjured a few candles and placed them on the floor.
She was about to open her mouth and ask a question when something rammed against the wall behind her and she was startled. She spun around, her nerves tingling with fear and anticipation, but there was nothing to see.
The loud noise had erupted from beyond the wall.
Was someone trying to break t down?
"Tom!"
Another loud boom and she thought she heard chinks of plaster fall off.
Tom looked up, unperturbed.
Maybe she could buy some more time...
She brandished her wand, jerking it in a complex figure, and tried to repair it.
Nothing.
No spell.
Was the wand not reacting to her magic?
She snapped her fingers once again as another loud boom echoed across the room.
Nothing.
What the...?
"Tom." She ran over to his side, dodging behind the stone case to avoid a large stone that came tumbling their way. "I can't use my magic. The wand won't work. I can't fire spells, with or without it."
Tom was busy murmuring something, his hands full of glowing light as he concentrated upon the double pentagon in front of him.
He was ignoring everything.
"Tom!" She grabbed his sleeve to catch his attention. "They're trying to break down the walls!"
Her touch seemed to have roused him from the brief reverie for his focus turned to her. He glanced at the wall once and then back at her.
He frowned and looked at the carved pentagram once more.
"Yes."
"Yes? What do you mean 'yes'?" she said angrily and jumped to her feet, brandishing her wand in front of him. "I can't use magic. What's wrong with me? How am I going to be of any help if this stupid stick doesn't work? I mean... what happened?"
Tom averted his eyes as larger chunks of the wall fell down before them.
His silver eyes had a hint of fire in them; he slashed his wand through air and the wall repaired itself.
Quickly.
As if it had never taken a blow.
Everything became silent once more.
An infected silence.
Confusion gave way to dark consternation as Hermione stared at the newly repaired stone wall in front of them.
"W-why couldn't I do that?" she asked him once more, running her hand through thick, bushy hair and looked at him suspiciously. "And back in the corridor, I snapped my fingers and nothing happened..."
She gaped at the air between her fingers.
He looked uncomfortable, almost... gloomy.
"I have to do this before..." he murmured quietly, not answering her question. "This wall cannot be repaired again and again. I have to... Stay by my side, I'll protect you."
Protect her.
She closed her eyes and cursed.
Shit.
"You did this to me?"
He didn't look at her as he drew another pentagram in the air and sent a small curse flying towards the stone case that harboured Voldemort's dead body.
She moved back a few steps, her back hitting the wall and she managed not to stumble.
"Did you do this?" She wrapped her fingers into her palm, staring at his handsome face with a disbelieving expression in her eyes. "Did you take away my magic?"
He said nothing, his back was turned to her, and she felt the air gag her throat.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Reckless.
Hello, people.
This chapter was really hard to write; I was out of ideas and well, everything seemed rather hazy.
So I am stuck again. Because I kinda have three different ways in which the story could go(yes, I like having the option.) So why dont you tell me whom you would like to see Hermione end up with and maybe I can take inspiration and come to a conclusion.
I recently started two more stories ( of which I had to delete one because it wasn't turning out right) but I really want to do my best in the second one. It's called Melancholia, and I hope to make it different. Very different.
Anyway, leave a review, tell me why you'd like to see Hermione with either of the two protagonists and hopefully I can write another chapter soon.
Lucrece