Chapter 25

"Avada Kedavra!"

Bathing the room in a sickly green, Hermione caught the brunt of the killing curse, dropping to a heap on the ground. Her glow was extinguished like a flame in the rain as her body lay limp upon the stones.

"...I killed her."

If silence was a sound, it was absolutely deafening in that mirrored room as Lucius Malfoy stared down at Hermione's unnaturally still body. His eyes flickered fearfully to Lord Voldemort who was simply staring at the body, without any notable emotion.

"M-My Lord I am sorry, I-I didn't know...I didn't think...," the Death Eater dropped to his knees, trembling in fear of the torture to come.

Yet it didn't. Lucius dared to peek up, seeing only Voldemort still sitting and paying no attention to the man at his feet, rather still staring at Hermione. A small smirk started to creep across his thin lips and Malfoy whipped around to see Hermione's shoulder begin to twitch.

"It's not possible." He breathed, watching Hermione, with a faint groan, push herself up into a sitting position, grasping her chest.

"Merlin, that hurt my chest," She rasped, her voice sounding as though it hadn't been used in several years. "I think you broke a rib, Malfoy."

"Don't complain Hermione," Lord Voldemort sneered, finally standing. "It could have been much worse."

She frowned, wondering what could be worse than a broken rib under the circumstances, when the memories of the last half hour came crashing down. Hermione looked down at her chest and couldn't believe it when she saw no blood, no bruising, not even a red mark. Tears welling behind her eyes, she gazed up at Voldemort. "How am I alive?"

Voldemort held out a hand, which Hermione took in her confusion, allowing the dark wizard to pull her to her feet. "The same reason your kind was hunted into near extinction Hermione, you can absorb death, without ever experiencing it."

"Absorb death?" Hermione steadied herself against the wall. "What do you mean, I soak up death?"

"In a manner, the orb you were holding absorbed the curse so your body would not have to; it is why Angels were so sought after. For centuries wizards and witches have tried to harness the technique of an exterior life-force," Lord Voldemort's blood red eyes locked with Hermione's. "It would mean immortality."

"And it all comes together," Hermione hissed, finding her voice. "You were never planning on letting me go after the war, were you? You were going to keep me here and try to find out the technique yourself...,"

"What would give you such an idea?' Voldemort grinned cruelly and Hermione fumed.

"You're disgusting," she said in a threateningly low voice. "Merlin help me I thought there was still some form of dignity left in that grab-bag of bones and evil you call a body. Now I know there's not! You were never going to let me out! You want a war Voldemort then fine...I'll give you a war, I'll give you a war inside these walls."

Hermione's eyes had been swallowed in black and her skin glowing faintly as she stepped past the Dark Lord and a still bewildered Lucius Malfoy. Storming down the halls, Hermione allowed every drop of fury to leech from her skin and out into the walls, floorboards and any object laying in her path of intended destruction. As though a storm brewed in her very palms, walls rattled, portraits fell, the force eliminating anything within a six feet radius, but Hermione didn't notice. She didn't see the debris lying at her feet, nor did she see the path ahead, just her destination.

No Death Eaters dared to step in her path as the mayhem that was Hermione Granger burst through the doors of the manor and into the grassy grounds. It was there an obstacle finally appeared, Lord Voldemort had somehow beat Hermione to the grounds and was calmly waiting for her at the edge of the lake.

"Hermione, stop."

Sneering coldly, Hermione paused in her step and motioned to the empty space. "Nothing for me to break out here...Just you."

"I will not tell you again."

"Good." Hermione suddenly seized, her body clenching harshly as a wave of pure energy rolled from her very pores and collided with Lord Voldemort, who was knocked from his feet and yet seemed unfazed as he stood.

"Very well." No words were spoken as Voldemort's eyes flared and the ground beneath Hermione's feet began to shake violently. She struggled to keep her balance as the world seemed to give way and Hermione jolted upwards, a platform appearing under her. A cage had formed from the ground up, completely unlike the one she had initially been stuffed in. The bars were not solid, rather formed of a black whispy substance that burnt Hermione as she reached for it.

Voldemort flicked his wand and the cage rose, Hermione with it and floated in his wake. "What is this?" she cried.

"Insurance, I had hoped I wouldn't need it." Voldemort continued to grin to himself as Hermione tried to free herself, but received nothing more than burns and bruises for her trouble.

"What is this?" She repeated, resolving to stand well back from the smoky bars.

"You have cure my dear and I have the poison." All too soon Voldemort was ushering the caged Hermione back into his bedroom.

"You are poison." She hissed.

"And you, my little thorn, are an addiction." Hermione was quite grateful for the cage as Lord Voldemort's tone changed and his eyes travelled their lurid way along Hermione's body. "You are right, I have no intention of freeing you Hermione, you will serve a much greater purpose by staying in my reach."

"We had a deal Riddle; you train me and I decide which side to fight for...I am not staying here; I will fight for Dumbledore and I will kill you." Hermione stood in the centre of her prison as she spoke, silently calculating the distance between the bars.

"Kill me?" Voldemort sneered. "Wiser than you have tried my dear, and failed."

"Wiser, yes, but not stronger," Hermione stalked closer to the bars, getting as close as she could without burning herself. "You wanted me to know what I am Riddle, what I'm capable of and now I do...I feel it now and I understand it far better than you or any of your serpentine predecessors ever have. But it's your folly in ambition; you fanned the flames Riddle, now prepare to burn."

"Did one of those curses bounce back and hit you in the head Remus?" Sirius snapped. "Or is it just that time if the month and the fur in your head is tickling the rational part of your brain?"

"I don't have fur inside my skull, it would be very uncomfortable." Remus said offhandedly, feeling along the yellowed walls as he, Sirius and Oliver Wood ventured along the dark underground tunnels of the manor.

"Fine then you are just a moron; how could you tell Hermione we would just leave her there? We can't leave her there with snake face!"

"We'll join her if you don't keep your voice down," Remus hissed before patting a certain patch of wall. "Oh for love of Merlin...,"

"What's wrong?"

"I recognise this configuration of cracks' we've been here before."

Sirius groaned. "We're going around in circles."

"If I could try...," Oliver stepped forward timidly. "I remember some of the way that I used to come in, it's better than circles anyway."

"Be my guest." Sirius motioned forward and Remus remained silent, a habit that did not go unnoticed by his best friend. Falling back, with the thoughtful Lupin, Sirius tapped him on the shoulder. "Wolf got your tongue?"

"What?"

"Every time Wood opens his mouth you lose the ability to use yours; what's going on?"

"I don't trust him." Remus said softly.

"What? Why not?"

"Too many coincidences, too many of which point to him."

Sirius grabbed Remus' shoulder, both faces only just visible in the restricted light from the tunnels. "What are you saying Remus?"

He sighed, lowing his voice just enough. "You, Ron, Harry, Albus and I were the only ones who knew where Hermione would be taken, we were the only ones who were told. And yet she was taken anyway, through mass concealment spells and wards; the Death Eaters found her; how?"

"Even evil people get dumb luck sometimes Moony."

"And sometimes they have help; if Albus or Hermione would tell anyone outside of us it would have been Oliver," Remus insisted. "And just as we come close to finding Hermione, he shows up to the rescue...I don't believe in coincidences like that Sirius."

"Come on Remus, this is Oliver we're talking about. He and Hermione have been together for quite a while now."

"And why is that?" Remus challenged. "They were never in the same social group, she was never interested in Quidditch, they weren't even in the same house and still aren't. Oliver was always an average student, but a sport fanatic, Hermione is a prodigy and could care less about any physical endeavours...Why was he interested in her to begin with?"

"They're kids Remus, they're not interested in things like that; Hermione's pretty, Oliver's fit; that's all they see."

"How can you stand there and say that about Hermione, that she doesn't see further than skin deep?" Lupin scoffed. "Have you met the girl?"

Sirius fell quiet for a beat, tilting his head slightly. "Okay, I'll pay that, but think about what you're saying Remus...Do you really think Oliver is a Death Eater?"

"I do."

"Is everything okay?" Oliver's voice echoed from up ahead where he had clearly noticed Remus and Sirius were no longer behind him.

"Fine Oliver," Remus said coldly. "We've been running all night, I needed to breathe."

"What were you talking about back here?"

Remus looked to Sirius, who held his friends' gaze for just a few moments before facing Oliver with a shrug. "How to help Dumbledore without abandoning Hermione here."

"Oh, come up with anything?" Oliver asked, sounding too enthused for Remus' taste and he lightly shook his head.

"No, not yet."

"Are you okay to keep going Professor Lupin? We don't know how often Death Eaters patrol these tunnels."

"No, we don't." Remus hissed before straightening up and feigning weakness by gripping Sirius' shoulder. "Let's get moving, we have alot to tell Dumbledore."

Voldemort had left Hermione in the room by herself, no doubt to punish Lucius for his calculated attack. The frustrated Gryffindor didn't mind the time however, it only gave her more time to study the cage around her. She found the bars were too close together to squeeze between and the pain was too great for her to simply slip through the smoky enclosure.

"That creep is lucky I don't have asthma." She whined, sitting cross legged on the floor, wracking her brilliant mind for a solution. "He said it himself; even he is not infallible. It's just smoke; it can't be impenetrable...It's just smoke."

For the better part of an hour she sat, trying to understand what the loophole was as there always seemed to be one with Lord Voldemort, indeed all forms of dark magic and her cage was of no innocent creation. It's just smoke...But what isn't around this place? Everything here is just smoke and mirrors.

"Surely you know the muggle saying 'where there is smoke, there is fire.'" Hermione jerked as Voldemort's voice broke her frustration.

"I do, I'm surprised to hear you say it...Shouldn't you be gargling with mouthwash now?"

"Your bars are not comprised of smoke Hermione and I would not advise you try to alter them." He said coolly, laying a stack of parchment in a drawer beside the bed.

"Fine, you do it then." Hermione grumbled.

"You'll be free of them soon enough, that much I will promise you," Voldemort hung his cloak on the wall before turning to Hermione with a look of such intensity that she recoiled in the cage. "The war is looming much sooner than even I anticipated and despite your consistent efforts to undermine and frustrate me, I still have one final weapon that I believe you make you somewhat more...compliant."

"What could you possibly have to control me? You've taken everything from me already!" Hermione growled in her frustration and fear that Lord Voldemort might just be telling the truth.

He was.

"Avery!"

Hermione watched from behind the bars as Avery appeared in the doorway, but he wasn't alone, collar grasped in the Death Eater's fist and looking battered, but furious was Oliver Wood.

"Oliver!" Hermione cried, rushing forward and jumping back as the bars stung her hands. "Don't you touch him!"

"Hermione! Are you alright?" Oliver cried, struggling in Avery's grip.

"Let him go Riddle!"

"Such sweet young love and so very persuasive," Lord Voldemort sneered as Oliver was thrown at his feet. "Now I find myself in a dilemma Hermione...,"

"Oh I am sorry." Hermione seethed.

Voldemort smirked. "This rat was found wandering the bowels of my manor, normally an intruder would be met with merciless torture...Crucio."

"NO!"

Oliver screamed and writhed on the stone floor as Hermione could only watch helplessly from her cage.

"But perhaps this particular rat could be useful, don't you think?"

"Let. Him. Go." Hermione fumed through clenched teeth.

"Oh come now Hermione, you're a perceptive girl; you have no leverage to make demands, this is your final choice. The boy or your pride, which is it to be?"

"You're pathetic," she hissed. "Out of ways to scare me, or just out of ideas? Is this really how desperate you are for my help; that you'd sink this low?"

"The time for talk is over Hermione, an answer. Now."

Hermione stared down at her beaten boyfriend, twitching on the cold floor; she knew she didn't have a choice. As far as she had come in her strength, there would always be the infallibly merciful heart that beat in her chest. If Professor Dumbledore had taught her nothing else, it was that all people deserve a chance and the choice to change.

Knowing when she had been outmanoeuvred Hermione sighed, ready to surrender when a series of thuds and shouts came from beyond the bedroom doors. They suddenly swung open and the determined figure of Sirius came barrelling through.

"Hermione don't!" Sirius cried as he ducked under a stunning spell.

"Sirius?!" Hermione gasped.

"Wood isn't who you think he is!" he screamed. "He's a traitor!"

Sirius was finally taken down by a curse, throwing him into the far wall with a sickening crack. "Sirius!"

"Is it really so difficult to keep one, mangy mutt under control for ten minutes?" Voldemort asked, his voice deathly cold.

"M-My deepest apologies my Lord, he...he just ran and we couldn't catch him in time, I'm sorry...," the snivelling Death Eater dared not to make eye contact with Lord Voldemort as he attempted to raise Sirius from the ground.

Hermione pulled her eyes from Sirius long enough to see Oliver stand and brush himself off. "Well it was a good try." He said offhandedly.

"Oliver...," Hermione whispered, her mind racing to disprove Sirius. "Tell me it's not true."

"Wish I could doll, but a job's a job." Oliver shrugged, kneeling before Lord Voldemort and kissing his robed. "I am sorry My Lord, I failed you."

"You played your part Wood," Voldemort said softly, kicking the boy back. "Now get out of my sight."

The cage bottom was cold against Hermione's legs as she sat in the centre, staring into nothingness as her world reeled in a sickening spin. The sound of orders being shouted at the Death Eaters carry Sirius vaguely registered as well as the door slamming shut behind Oliver, but nothing could snap her from her spiral.

"It can't be...Oliver loves me; he wouldn't do this to me." Hermione's mind was determined to shelter itself, but something deeper, something stronger did not want to hear denial.

He never loved you, it was a trap.

Hermione shook her head, trying to force out the voice she recognised as Isira. "No, no, no it wasn't a trap, h-he's just scared; he doesn't know what he's saying."

You cannot lose a love you never had Hermione, accept his treachery, embrace the rage it evokes within you...Use it Hermione, use his betrayal against them.

"I-I can't...He wouldn't....Please...,"

You ARE stronger than this Hermione. The voice suddenly grew louder, more forceful than Hermione had ever heard it before. You have not conquered the entrapments of physical pain and mortal death to be destroyed by a child with an assignment. You are life and death Hermione, you are the kin of thousands of years of ancient magic and spilt blood...Do not let these snakes trap you again.

"I won't," Hermione whispered, shoving her grief aside. "I won't."

"...but keep him alive." She joined the land of the conscious just long enough to see Sirius being hauled from the room by several puffing Death Eaters. Lord Voldemort turned back to Hermione, who was still curled on the cage floor. "The best laid plans...," he sighed.

"If a war is coming," Hermione said softly, but clearly. "I want you to know I'll be ready, with or without your 'training', I will find my way to Dumbledore and I will personally ensure you suffer...I will watch as you turn into that little orphan boy; afraid and alone and wait until you beg for mercy."

"While I admire your confidence my dear, I think you are overlooking one small detail," the Dark Lord approached the cage. "While Wood's cover may have been compromised, I am sure you still feel something for that convict mutt."

"Is that really all you have left? Threats against the people I love?" Hermione cocked an eyebrow.

"Very well...," The smoky bars encasing Hermione suddenly flashed with a faint hiss and Lord Voldemort appeared within them. "I shall bring the conflict to you."

Hermione instinctively stepped back, burning the back of her arm on the bars. "Shooting fish in a barrel now?" she sneered. "Unarmed fish in a barrel I might add."

The unsuspecting Angel suddenly doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach as she was spun and thrown backwards into Lord Voldemort who gripped Hermione's throat in a single, spidery hand. "I prefer to think of it as an advantage."

"What do you want?' Hermione gasped.

Voldemort's cold fingers caressed Hermione's throat harshly. "I want you to accept your fate, you were born an Angel and as such you were born to be hunted. No Angel is born free, you hold the secret to immortality and I want it."

"There is very little comfort left in this world Riddle," Hermione gasped past his grip. "But even I find some small hope knowing that for all of your power and all of your minions...One day you...will...die."