A/N: Told you I'd be back.
CHAPTER 38: PASSAGE THROUGH TIME
Hermione's senses were a bit fuzzy, and she felt a dull pounding in the back of her head. The bright light shining through the window wasn't helping mask the pain. She groaned, turning her face away from the source and buried her face into the pillows resting beneath her head.
She could tell the pillows were filled with expensive down feathers. The cases felt luxuriously soft; high expensive thread counts most likely. Maybe even silk. She snorted. Hogwarts certainly was outdoing itself.
But then, her senses starting screaming, begging her to wake up, that she was in mortal danger. Still, her subconscious just wanted to bury deep into the expensive comforts of the bed she was resting upon. She inhaled deeply, catching the rich scent of freshly laundered duvets and sheets, and a hint of expensive furniture polish mixed with that.
Opening her eyes, Hermione found herself in a large king sized four poster canopy bed. She sat up, wincing slightly. The furniture was made of deep mahogany, very ornate carvings throughout the posts. There was a common motif of serpents and dragons etched intricately in the surface of the wood. A forest green tapestry hung on the opposite wall while the floor was adorned with a large pedestal accent rug. The elegance and timeless feel to the room alerted Hermione that she was in a very old yet very wealthy home.
She slid off the bed and explored further, trying to remember and piece together how exactly she had arrived at the strange but magnificent bedroom. Before she could organize her thoughts, a loud crack sounded behind her.
She jumped, her back hitting the tall rimed top of a matching ornate dresser and mirror. In front of her was a house elf wearing a shambled pillowcase. Something about the creature was oddly familiar. Hermione stifled a tone of surprise. "Dobby?"
He looked just as surprised as she did when she referred to him by name. "Dobby knows Master's guest?"
Hermione bit her lip. "I suppose not. My name is Hermione."
Dobby continued to stare at her as if she sprouted an extra head. "Master wants his guest to be comfortable. Should Dobby get Miss some food?"
"Is it safe? I am a bit hungry."
"Oh yes, Miss. Dobby prepares it himself. All of Master's favorite dishes. Everyday!"
"I would love some, them," she replied. "Would you please stay with me while I eat? I have hundreds of questions to ask you."
"Certainly, Miss. Dobby will return." And in another crack of apparition, he disappeared.
Hermione sighed. This meant she was at Malfoy Manor. But for reasons unknown she was being held there. Sitting back down on the bed, she wondered why she was being treated so hospitably.
A tray appeared in front of her with mounds of food and a hot bowl of soup. Immediately, she began devouring into the delicious meal. Dobby arrived a few minutes later, a bit perturbed by her animalistic behavior.
"Miss likes Dobby's cooking?" he asked while toying with the soiled strings of the apron he wore over his ensemble.
Hermione nodded, wiping her mouth, a bit embarrassed by her poor manners. "Yes, Dobby. It is absolutely delicious. Thank you."
The elf stiffened. "Th-thank you?" He looked around him, wide-eyed and frightened, then grabbed an empty plate on the tray and smashed it over his head. Hermione reached out a grabbed his hands as he reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice.
"Dobby, that's a compliment. No reason to hurt yourself, "she said restraining him further.
Dobby stared at her, a bit glazed and cross-eyed as he calmed down. "Dobby's habits are hard to break, Miss. Master has Dobby punish himself after every meal just in case."
Hermione released him as soon as she could see he was no longer a threat to himself. "Could you tell me why I am at Malfoy Manor?"
"Mister Regulus Black brought you here, Miss," Dobby replied. "Master is not here but Regulus Black told Dobby he has a special meeting with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
Hermione's face paled. "I must be their guest of honor, then."
"Dobby doesn't like Dark Magic…"
She smiled feebly at the house elf. "Neither does Hermione."
A sharp knock startled the two of them. Without being addressed, the visitor entered the room.
"Leave, Dobby," Regulus commanded.
Dobby swallowed nervously and looked back at Hermione with his big green eyes. "Good luck, Miss," he said before disappearing.
This left the two of them alone, a heavy and cold silence pervading the atmosphere. Reg appeared to be nervous. There was almost a worried, terrified look in his eyes and expression as he studied her. "I trust you ate enough? Do you need anything else? More rest? A shower, perhaps?"
"What, I had my last meal? Doesn't that imply you will stick me with your needles now? A shower won't really be necessary," she said acerbically.
Regulus sighed. "No need for the melodrama. You are here as a guest, so we will treat you as one. You aren't in any immediate danger. That is, you won't be if you don't do anything rash."
She scoffed. "Me being rash? You drugged me and dragged me here without my consent."
"You wouldn't have come otherwise."
"Damn right, I wouldn't!"
He sighed, "He only wants to speak to you."
"I have a hard time believing that, Reg."
"Please try, Hermione," he pleaded. "Things will go a lot more smoothly and we can get you home faster."
Hermione didn't respond. She folded her arms across he chest, glaring at him with as much loathing as she could muster. "Why does he want to see me? What does he need from me that he can't get from Severus directly?"
The heavy silence returned. Reg studied her, clearly torn at the situation. He finally shook his head, sighing. "The Dark Lord wants to know from you where Severus's true loyalties lie."
Hermione blinked, clearly surprised at the question. "He's fully loyal to the Death Eaters."
"And not to you?"
She pursed her lips. "Unfortunately, Severus loves me, but his opinions are hardly influenced by mine."
Regulus visibly relaxed, almost laughing in relief. "Oh, Hermione, that is wonderful news. For a moment there…but no matter. You will tell the Dark Lord what you just told me and all will be well."
"It's not going to be so cut and dry," she said with a tone of sadness in her voice.
"Trust me," he replied, "you intrigue him, and he is not about to destroy something that sparks his interest."
"I don't care anymore," she whispered. "You betrayed me Reg. I will never forgive you for this."
She saw a pained look in his eyes, which pleased her slightly. He turned away, opening the door. "I'm sorry, but I had no choice."
"Just take me to him," she said in finality, walking straight past him defiantly, shoulders square and head held high, bracing for the inevitable.
Every click of her heel reverberated around her like gun shots. Reg didn't speak to her as he led her to the main parlor. She could see the utmost guilt ebbing from him. He would not look at her, which only made her more anxious. For someone who had just told her she had nothing to fear, his stiff demeanor spoke otherwise.
Hermione tried to empty her mind like Severus taught her. She could only hope the Dark Lord would not display his wrath, but she knew the chances of her returning unscathed were slim to none.
The large doors opened on their own. Hermione's legs froze in terror, unwilling to proceed inside the sitting room. Regulus placed a gentle hand on the small of her back, ushering her inside. The room was dark, a fire the only source of light. A tall shadowy figure was standing off to the side. Hermione could make out long finger resting on the top of a high backed winged chair. Large windows were also visible, but heavy velvet curtains were shielding any light that would pervade the room by the setting sun.
"Leave us, Regulus," she heard his cold voice command. Without another word, the young man exited the drawing room, closing the only door behind him.
Hermione wished her heartbeat wasn't so sonorous. She swore she could hear it pounding off the walls in the large room. She continued to stand in her spot, fearing to move without a command.
"I have been looking forward to meeting you, madam," Voldemort began. "I feel that it has been too long of a delay."
She shrugged her shoulders. "School is a rather busy time to get away," she said simply.
He chuckled at her cheekiness. "So that is your excuse. Very well. It's a pathetic one, nonetheless." She could make out his silhouette caressing his wand. "Now, where are my manners? Do have a seat."
"Thank you, sir, but I'm fine where I am," she responded politely.
"Sit," he commanded more threateningly.
The fire crackled. Hermione felt her Gryffindor instincts beginning to emerge. Rather than pick a fight with this sinister wizard, she did as she was told, and sat down in one of the other winged chairs that was across from the one Voldemort was currently standing behind.
"Now, you must wonder why I had Regulus bring you here," he began, taking a seat. "I didn't expect to have to bring you in by stealth, but Severus seemed to have been neglecting his duties. Surely he mentioned to you that I've been very anxious to meet you. After all, it's only proper I vet one of my loyal servant's future spouses."
Hermione weighed her words carefully, not wanting to undo this man's patience. "He did, sir."
Voldemort sneered. "And what kept you?"
"My stubbornness."
"I see," he replied, steepling his fingers against his thin lips. "Do you know what kind of situation your stubbornness has placed on him? I do not tolerate insolence from my followers, especially when we have been making so much progress. Your delay would be his punishment to bear."
The words chilled her to the bone, but Hermione refused to lower her guard. "With all do respect, sir, Severus has made his choices regarding his allegiances, and I have made mine. I do not wish to sway from my own conclusions in the matter, despite the fact I am to marry him."
"And what is your conclusion?"
She was silent for a moment. "For now? To be a pacifist."
A cold laugh erupted from the chair. "My child, wouldn't you rather be on the side that wins? To not pick a side is just as good as fighting against me. You'll see that there is no way to survive but to join us."
"Like I said before," she responded in kind, "I'm stubborn. I suppose I enjoy learning the hard way."
His eyes glittered dangerously, the fire flames flickering in their dark depths. "I would like to address the arrangement you have with young Snape." He stood up from his seat and paced along the floor by the fire, his arms behind his back. "Severus seemed to have been very much devoted to our cause. But then, suddenly, many of my followers have noticed he was becoming aloof with them. It coincided with the arrival of a certain girl; a certain distraction."
She felt his eyes boring into her mind, knowing for certain he was testing her for the truth. "I won't deny that is me," she replied honestly. "But I assure you, our relationship has not altered his loyalty to you."
"That may be so," he responded, "but it has altered his commitment." He began pacing again. "Severus is indispensable, despite his blood status. However, he is worthless without full dedication! This is where the problem lies," he paused finally meeting Hermione's eyes. "I will not accept a half devoted servant."
"I've already told you, he's fully –"
"If he marries you, he's partially invested in you!" his voice rose in anger, but managed to compose himself accordingly. "You see, child, my other servants have made arrangements with their spouses in order to preserve their blood line. It's more of a contract to them. But Severus, he has become a fool, stumbling in weakness. You've convinced him to travel outside Britain after graduation. You've kept him from his summons on multiple occasions. The priceless servant is now damaged goods! What good will it do for me to have a love-sick half blood on my hands?"
Hermione stood up slowly, knowing where the conversation was going. "What do you suggest to rectify this situation?"
He smirked. "Someone must go, and we both know it will not be me." He raised his wand to eye level. "This is your chance, Hermione Granger, to give me a reason why I should not kill you at this moment."
Wondering how there could be a chance that she'd survive this meeting, she replied with the first thing that came to her mind. "If you kill me, he will find out sooner or later. And when he does, you'll lose him forever. A part of him dies with me." Tears were forming in her eyes. "You can't underestimate the power of love, despite the fact it turns loyal servants to blubbering fools." And to her disbelief, after a few moments of silence, she saw Voldemort lower his wand.
He began to chuckle coldly. "See? This is why witches like you can be of value. I could have killed you, but you have enlightened me to the mindset of foolish wizards. So, if you die, a part of him dies with you? Judging by your affection, I assume it is reciprocated. But what if you turn on each other?"
It took a moment for his words to ring clearly to Hermione. "You aren't suggesting I kill Severus?"
"That would be futile!" he snapped. "And if he should kill you, he would never regain face. No, our best solution would be to have you end this little tryst and never see him again."
Her heart grew cold and she shook her head vehemently. "That would destroy him."
"Even better," Voldemort replied coldly. "He hopefully will learn from his mistakes and never put himself in this situation again. And he would have you to blame. My loyal servant would return to his former status."
"I…I can't do that," Hermione stammered, feeling her own heart breaking.
Suddenly, she felt as if a thousand burning blades were stabbing her ruthlessly. She didn't see Voldemort raise his wand until the last minute. Screaming in pain, she collapsed on the ground, hitting her head against the chair in the process, but nothing was more brutal than the thought of leaving Severus.
He must have released the curse, for she found herself staring at the ceiling, gasping for breath. "Let's try that again, shall we?" she heard him whisper. "You will end this affair with Severus?"
"Please," she cried helplessly, "I love him." Voldemort cursed her once more, with more vigor and strength than before. It felt like hours as she writhed in relentless pain. She knew her voice was hoarse, and she found herself begging for release, but he would not grant it. From the deep realm she was in, Hermione heard a distance noise and a bright light shine in the room. And suddenly, there was peace.
"Bring her to me," she heard him command. Strong arms heaved her up from the floor. She could feel blood running down her face, and the room was spinning violently around her. When the stranger brought her within a hairs length from Voldemort's dark cold stare, she met his sinister red glare.
"You have until tomorrow," he threatened, "Or I will have it arranged to have you disappear for good. Do not forget who has the power." Hermione was too weak to reply. She was shifting in and out of consciousness. She didn't even remember being heaved back outside of the giant mansion until she began to shiver violently.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry," Regulus choked as he tried to warm her up. Despite the warm air of late spring, nothing was stopping her tremors. "I didn't know he was going to attack you like that. I need to get you back to Hogwarts immediately."
The aftershocks of the Cruciatus were unbearable. But something was not sitting right with Hermione. She had been attacked with the curse before, but this was nothing like she ever experienced. "Oh God, my head," she croaked, her gaze shifting in and out of focus. Not now, not like this, she thought.
Reg cursed under his breath and quickly heaved her into his arms so he could rush to the apparition point on the grounds. But before he reached the boundaries, someone apparated right to where they were running to.
"Hermione," Severus called out, seeing her so frail in Reg's arms. "What in Merlin's name did you do to her?" he shouted at Regulus as he tore her out of his arms."
"I…I didn't know…" he stammered, tears falling down his face as Severus dropped to his knees to examine Hermione, who was trembling violently. But she had reopened her eyes. Seeing that it was Severus, she held his robes in a vice like grip.
"I'm…I'm sorry, Sev," she choked out.
He smoothed out her blood stained hair away from the rest of her face. "You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. It was all Reg."
She shook her head in protest. "No, no, Severus. I'm sorry."
He didn't like the way she was speaking. "For what?"
Her breathing became labored. "I'm leaving you."
"What?"
"I don't want to go."
"You're going to be fine, Hermione," he spoke, hearing his own voice cracking in his throat. He couldn't lose her. Not like this. Not right now. Not when everything had seemed to be going right. He quickly stood up and returned to the apparition point, leaving Regulus behind. He would deal with him later.
Reaching the furthest barrier from Hogwarts, he rushed up the path, still hearing Hermione mutter relentless apologies under her breath. He could feel her slipping away with every step he took, so he gripped her tighter, as if she could hold on to life by using his own.
Severus feared it was too late to have her stabilized. He reached the castle doors, ignoring the remaining commencement stragglers that stayed past the festivities and called out for whatever help he could as he rushed up the stairs to the Infirmary.
The hospital wing was empty as he set Hermione in one of the beds, but he knew the commotion he caused had sent a few ghosts to notify whatever teacher remained in the school. Severus saw how clammy she was, shivering relentlessly, but she was still alive, and so that gave him hope.
"I'm sorry," she whispered again. "I don't want to leave you, but I have to."
"You're not going anywhere, Hermione," he said with renewed vigor. "We made it to the hospital wing. We will have you looked over, and you'll be just fine."
"I love you," she whispered weakly.
His throat closed up. "I love you, too." He heard frantic footsteps heading toward the entrance of the wing. "Stay strong."
She was gasping for air. "I can't hold on," Her eyes opened, sharp pains wracking through her limbs as tremors took over her body.
"You must, Hermione," he said, holding her hand tightly. "The worst is over. I hear help coming."
She muttered something incoherent. Severus squeezed her hand and got up just as soon as Ms. Trammell rushed through the door.
"What's wrong, Severus? The ghosts were alerting any professor around." She bustled around, gathering her supplies to start treating Hermione.
"She's been attacked," he said, watching the mediwitch start taking vitals. It scared him to see that the color had all but drained the older woman's face.
"She's barely registering a pulse," she said somberly. "Go fetch me some pepper-up in the cabinet."
Severus did as he was told, and as he made his way to the supply closet, Dumbledore arrived in haste. He froze, staring at the Headmaster. Something about his presence unnerved him, like he was anticipating an event like this to occur.
"Is she—"
"Behind the curtain," the young man motioned towards the corner of the room.
Dumbledore swiftly moved toward Hermione's bedside, whispering something in the mediwitch's ear, who looked completely aghast. Severus followed soon after with the potion in hand.
Hermione was trembling more violently than before, but managed to open her eyes. The look she gave to the old wizard was one of understanding. "It burns so much, professor."
Dumbledore stroked her forehead. "You'll soon be home, child."
"She's not going anywhere," Severus replied haughtily.
All eyes landed on him. He pushed through, wanting to administer the potion to the suffering woman. Her hands were shaking too much to drink it herself, so Severus sat down at the edge of the bed, gently tipping back the vial. It seemed to have comforted her, for she curled up against his lean body, holding onto him dearly. Dumbledore excused himself and the mediwitch, leaving the young couple together alone.
Severus bent down and kissed the top of Hermione's head. "Don't scare me like that ever again."
"Severus, please…listen to me…"she choked. "I need to ask you something before it's too late."
She had turned her head to look into his face. The look in her eyes was full of desperation. "Tell me," he said gently.
Tears fell down her face. "Whatever happens, however this plays out, please, I beg you, don't hate me."
Severus looked at her aghast. What an odd request, but it was one he could manage without hesitation. "Hermione, I could never hate you." He brushed the tears off her face, and leaned in to kiss her, to show her that he could never stop loving her. Hermione continued to sob as he pulled away, but soon began falling asleep.
He got up from the bed, gently tucking in the covers around her. He was glad to see that the shivers had subsided. What a strange reaction to the Cruciatus. Pulling the curtains aside, he returned to where the Headmaster was speaking seriously to the mediwitch.
"What is the prognosis, Ms. Trammell?" Severus asked concerned.
She turned towards him with a sympathetic look in her eyes. "Not good. In all my years of Healing, I've never seen a reaction from the Cruciatus like this before. Her vital signs were unstable. I've seen tremors, yes, but this was something out of sorts."
He swallowed thickly. "Surely, she's stable now."
"We'll have to monitor her closely," she said.
"Severus," the Headmaster interrupted, "Perhaps you need to be preparing yourself—"
"She's going to be fine, Headmaster," he said acerbically.
Trammell was returned to the girl's bedside when suddenly the room began shaking violently. Vials were falling off the cabinet shelves, spilling their contents on the floor. Beds were rattling, and Severus had to rush to one of the railings to keep himself from falling onto the stone floor. The Headmaster had found a seat, his eyes closed and his hands gripping the arm rests, turning his knuckles white. An earthquake at Hogwarts? Certainly it's never occurred before!
Just as suddenly as it began, the room stood still. But before Severus could make a statement, a loud bang resounded throughout the room, and everything went black.