~*~Mortality~*~
Again, she had struck fear into his heart.
Voldemort did not let himself think of it until he had already left his queen in the care of her pet Longbottom and had Wormtail show Draco back to his cell. It was a childish worry that dogged him, based in the universal instinct to fear what one does not understand. It was his soul, after all, that had been melded to hers and he was by far the more powerful of the two. But doubt pestered him, even in his certainty, that perhaps she was more formidable than he had given her credit for.
As Draco held the golden cup against her lips, he had felt the briefest tug in his chest and it had only grown worse as she had begun to convulse under the strain. The magic was meant to stay in the circle, to be bound to the ancient magic Voldemort had worked into it, but he had felt every moment of the melding as if it were he standing in the circle and not her. It had never occurred to him to move his horcruxes from one vessel to another, as he had been quite sure of their safety when he hid them away, but there was a reassurance in having them in a form he could manipulate beyond simply keeping himself tied to this world. Besides, a living horcrux could always remain in transit and would therefore be harder to find.
Still, it worried him that he had felt so much of her power as it rolled out of the ward circle towards him. The plan was for it to be the other way around. It should have been his power he felt from her so strongly, his presence should have overcome hers without issue. But it hadn't.
Voldemort knew he was too eager to remove himself from the sudden fear when he gladly agreed to allow reporters, including the likes of Rita Skeeter, interview his new queen. Of course, they would have to wait until she was able enough to speak to them, but that delay just fueled more rumors that she was carrying his child. Absurd, really. She was far more important than that.
But how important would the mudblood witch be to him with so many horcruxes within her? Voldemort did not like the idea of depending on her for his continued life, but if she was that powerful and if he could tip the scales of her control in his favor, he would be unstoppable. The Light would falter at the sight of her at his side and his servants would see how little the resistance truly was compared to his glory.
It was his soul inside of her and he would bring her beneath his power. He would never fear her again.
Neville could say one thing for Voldemort, he spared no expense to ensure that Hermione recovered from her ordeal.
Wormtail brought whatever Neville had asked for, and he had even been allowed a wand so he could help her settle after the merging, though he could not do advanced magic with it. It was hard at first to care for her as she was either sleeping or catatonic, refused to eat or drink anything that was offered and fought viciously whenever anyone tried to move her. That behavior continued for five days, until she was too weak to struggle against Neville's grip and lay limply against the bed staring at nothing.
Because of her weakened state, Neville was able to get her clean and changed without much fight from her, which was a relief. But still she wouldn't speak and wouldn't eat, though she began drinking water if he held it to her lips. Days had gone by without improvement, just silence and rejection of food.
But one day, in the silence that had descended on them since she had started her internal battle against the horcruxes, a raspy whisper had risen up from the bed.
"Nev?"
It took him a minute to realize he wasn't hearing things, but once he had looked up at Hermione's still form, he knew she was actually in control. He hurried over to her, helping her sit up and making sure she was comfortable. Her eyes were still red and she was paler than she had ever been, but she was gentle as she held onto him. Her brow was furrowed and she looked around herself in confusion.
"How long have I been here?"
"A few weeks..." he watched her come to terms with that information and decided he should try to get some food into her before she slipped back into an exhausted sleep. "do you think you could eat something?"
"I...I could try."
He had Wormtail bring him some soup, not too thick, and slowly spoon-fed her until she waved him off.
"Enough?" he asked, setting the bowl on the bedside table.
"Yeah, just...where's Cad?"
"I'm here," Cadeyrn piped up, crawling up on the bed beside her. "Neville says a strange man named Snape is going to take me away."
Hermione weakly reached out for the boy and he came closer so that she could hold his face in her hands. Her fingers were skeletal against Cadeyrn's soft cheek.
"Severus is going to keep you safe."
"Why can't you?"
"Because there is something I have to do and I need to know you're safe to do it." Hermione was visibly drifting again and she tucked some of Cadeyrn's hair behind his ear before she smiled at him. "You're my strength, Cad...you have to be safe."
"Okay, Mum...okay."
They sat around for a little longer, catching her up on what had happened since the melding. She wasn't pleased about the fall of the Undermarkets or the death of Missus Sutton, or the massacre of half a dozen teenagers that eerily reminded them of themselves during their fifth year. She swore to be vicious upon her return to the world stage, giving the Light more of a foothold against the King's men. Firstly, though, she had a promise to keep.
"You have to get him out, Nev. It's too dangerous for him here." Hermione was facing him and Cadeyrn had gone to the bathroom. She stared at the door with concern written across her face before she turned to look at him. "I've already asked Severus to come for him. I need you to be my envoy."
"I'll do what I can. Just rest."
Soon after an assurance that Neville would get a message to Snape to coordinate Cadeyrn's safe passage from the manor, Hermione had drifted into a restful sleep.
He hoped she remembered everything she had sworn when she woke.
Finding the right opportunity to slip down to the dungeons was all about proper timing and it came right as the king's men were gathering together in the ballroom for a meeting. Wormtail was too busy elsewhere in the manor to watch the tower, so Neville left Cadeyrn with Hermione and made his way downstairs.
The Death Eaters were milling about in the ballroom, restless as they waited for their king to make his speech or whatever it was that Voldemort was going to do. Large gatherings either meant big talk or lots of bodies. Neville wasn't about to stick around to find out which. The guards outside the dungeon did rounds around the entire place, checking to make sure the prisoners were still alive, though he really didn't think they cared. He and Hermione would have to find a way to release them all before they escaped Voldemort. He would bring it up to her when she was better.
Draco Malfoy's cell was far back and took a bit of sneaking to get to, but once he had he was sure that it would take the guards a while to work their way back around. By then, he hoped, he would be gone.
"Malfoy, I need a favor," Neville kept his voice light and stayed close to the bars. The pureblood laid out on a cot turned his head curiously.
"Is she alive?"
"Yes."
"Then leave me alone." Malfoy turned his back to the cell door and Neville sighed in frustration.
"I'm here because she sent me. A boy lived despite the King's wish that all the children be killed. She has taken him under her protection. Snape will surely visit you as he cannot reach the tower when it so heavily guarded..."
"Then how did you get out?" Malfoy was watching him suspiciously.
"The King is having some sort of gathering in the ballroom. Wormtail and the usual guards are gone, but I can't cast a patronus because of this collar, Hermione is still too weak from the melding and the boy is too young. Snape will come to you and I need you to tell him to be at the balcony closest to the thrones at midnight when the moon is new."
"Why then?"
"Because it will give Hermione time to recover and hopefully the guards will be lessened. If they are not, then at least it will give me time to figure out a way to get him down there without being seen."
"I'll pass your message," Malfoy grumbled, looking up at the ceiling. "But don't make a habit out of this."
"What, like you've got something better to do?" Neville was gone without waiting to see the response to that.
After a couple weeks with no news, Sev had taken it upon himself to seek out Moody. After he had contacted Alastor and met the man in person for the first time since Varribaltë, Severus had tried to find a place for Cadeyrn in Hogwarts. His manor might have been his own, but it had not been ready for the advent of a child and he had no other place to house the boy until after the war, but the Auror had immediately refused. According to him, the battle was always meant to take place on the grounds of the school and would be too dangerous for a child.
Despite that setback, he had been able to warn Alastor of what was coming and it had bought them more time. Meaning that Moody could warn Minerva of what had transpired so far, the state of play with the Horcruxes, and the hustle, bustle and politics within the Manor. If there was one thing they had all learnt, it was that sharing information vital to the success of a mission, that may also prove someone's innocence, should be shared, not kept hidden.
Rodolphus had become more demanding of those tasked with finding the Auror as the queen had either taken ill or was simply waiting out her target and could not lead them in the search. The rumors that met his ears made it more and more urgent that he see Hermione and that he verify that she was alright after the melding, but access to her tower had been limited to only the King, Wormtail and Longbottom. So instead, he went to the only other person close to the event.
The dungeons was no place for his godson, but the regular traffic through the cages made by other Death Eaters masked his true intentions quite well. Draco was sitting in the center of the circle already, facing away from Severus and chanting under his breath.
"Draco," Severus called softly and his godson turned around quickly. "how fares the queen?"
"She fares," Draco sighed, shifting just enough to be able to face him. "I have not seen her since the melding was completed, but I have a message from the slave for you. He says to be at the balcony closest to the thrones at midnight when the moon is new."
"For the boy?"
"Planning something else besides a getaway for an orphan?"
Severus shook his head and turned back to the conversation he came down here to have.
"But how did it go? Where there any complications?"
"A few." Draco avoided meeting Severus in the eye and it filled him with dread.
Severus stepped closer to the cell. "Speak plainly and truthfully. What happened?"
"The first horcrux was supposed to simply sit inside her, under the skin but not part of the soul. I was very clear in my intent when I put the locket in her chest, but something went wrong..."
"Wrong?"
"I..." Draco seemed exasperated by his own thoughts. "I can feel the souls when I transfer them and I had to trace the same path I took before so that they could be centered together, but the locket was...it had spread into her."
"Can you reverse the process and remove the locket?"
"I wasn't able to do a thorough examination, but if it has spread into her soul, it will hunker down. Even if it is only to save itself. They aren't objects, for all that they were locked inside them. Horcruxes are fragments of people, with minds and instincts and needs. No one desires to survive more than our king and if I tamper with the locket before it is time to, he may dig himself further in."
"But Hermione, she will live?"
Draco stood, a sigh escaping him as he closed his eyes. "I hoped she would if all went as planned, but now things have changed."
"Potter survived death and the horcrux died, why is she any different?"
"Because she isn't the Chosen One. Fate shines when it wishes to and on whomever it decides, but the light can be snuffed out as quickly as it was sparked. This wasn't supposed to happen."
"I have not lived as long as I have by consigning myself to superstitions. What do you need to ensure the horcrux does not spread?"
The guards on patrol were coming down the hall and Severus knew that word of his visit to Draco would get to the king if he stayed, so he stepped back from the cell.
"Quickly, we don't have much time." Severus said as he watched the guards taunt the other prisoners.
"I need her, a wand, and at least an hour uninterrupted in the laboratory."
"You will have it. Be ready." And Severus spun away, exiting from the other side of the dungeon as the guards made their rounds.
The new moon was only a week away and Severus whiled away that time following Rodolphus' orders without complaint, keeping his head down as they expected of him. Contact with Moody had become harder now that Hermione was not in control of the hunt for the Auror and there was very little chance he could show his face anywhere near Hogwarts without drawing the wrath of the entire Order. He and Dumbledore had often spoken of the difficulty deep cover would bring for him during the latter man's final days. They had both known that, aside from Albus himself, no one was willing to believe the best of Severus Snape. He had been assured multiple times that the truth would prevail over any prejudices, but that was the rambling of a dying man who desperately wished for peace.
The years of the King's victory had widened the already large separation between himself and the Order and there was no way to rebuild that bridge while he wore the mask of the Slayer. Severus wondered if Hermione would be able to mend her own bridges once this was all over.
He thought of her frequently as he did what work he was tasked with and Draco's words settled uneasily in his heart. If the horcrux had spread into her own soul and could not be removed...would death be her only option? He had sworn to save her from that fate as he had been unable to save Albus, but fate had never been on his side. Could he stand by while she sacrificed herself for the country and those that would revile her after her death? Was he strong enough to accept that her death was inevitable?
Severus found his nights were filled with horrible visions of a future where Hermione was not in it. Sleep escaped him and he threw himself into his work.
The new moon came upon him suddenly, so lost was he in his own dread and he was almost late to the balcony. Slightly out of breath from running through the manor as stealthily as he could manage, Severus slipped quietly through the doors and out to the balcony where no one was waiting for him. Or at least, it appeared for a moment that no one was there. The space to the left of the doors shimmered and then both Longbottom and a young boy were revealed to him from beneath a Disillusionment.
"I thought you wouldn't come." Longbottom whispered, his arm protectively across the boy's shoulders.
"I said that I would." Truly, Severus only wished to be done with this whole affair so that he could focus on finding an opportune moment to gather together Draco and Hermione. He would not feel secure again until he knew the odds of her survival.
"You've said a lot of things, Snape."
"Just give me the boy." He reached out and the boy darted back behind Longbottom in fear.
The young wizard eyed him in suspicion. "Hermione trusts you. I don't know why and I don't think she should, but she does."
"Do we have time...?"
"Shut up and listen to me," Longbottom didn't raise his voice, but the steel that ran through it was enough to make Severus stop in his tracks. "I don't care what's in it for you. I don't care if you've seen the light or if you've turned over a new leaf, but if you are just going along with all of this for some selfish desire to free yourself, then stay as far away from her as physically possible. You think you know her or that you know what's best for her, but really you don't know the first thing about her. You haven't spent five years keeping her steady when everyone else was gone. You didn't protect her every time a Death Eater tried to kill her or hurt her or worse. You haven't stayed up with her on her birthday so that she doesn't end up crying herself to sleep because she misses her family. No matter what you feel or don't feel for her, I want you to remember that it wasn't you who kept her safe all these years. It was me."
Severus had never seen Longbottom so passionate about anything except for plants, but the fire in his eyes as he spoke could not be faked. It occurred to him that he hadn't even considered Neville Longbottom important to this suicide mission. But if he thought back to that fateful moment when two thieves dared steal from the King, he would have remembered that it was Longbottom that had been standing beside Hermione. It so easily could have been Longbottom that started this revolution, if fortune had leaned another way that day. Longbottom made sure he was still paying attention before he continued.
"So I want you to understand this," the boy moved slightly and Longbottom let him go. "Everything from here on out is her decision. You don't get to choose what's right and what's wrong. You don't get to claim her as yours. These may very well be her last days alive," he choked back tears and his voice wavered. "and I don't want her to spend them with you if your intentions aren't completely noble. She deserves better than that. So if you don't love her and if this has all been a game, then walk away now."
There was silence for a moment as Severus marvelled at the loyalty this wizard had for Hermione. He had been chained and leashed, demeaned and imprisoned, and yet he still stood up for her as if he was a free man. No doubt Longbottom would throw his life down for hers without a second thought. Stepping forward steadily, but not quickly, Severus laid his hand on the young wizard's shoulder.
"We will never walk away from her, will we?" he muttered, surprised at the common ground between them.
"I'll follow her anywhere."
"As will I, Longbottom." A snort greeted that statement and he frowned. "What?"
"Don't call me that. It's like Potions all over again. I'm Neville. Just Neville."
Severus shook his head, but acquiesced. "Let us get this boy to safety then, Neville."
They had been following him for weeks now, the sneaky Death Eaters that thought they were clever and quiet when really they were akin to a herd of elephants. Alastor had lived through the first generation of their kind, when it was an art form to be deviously evil. He had learned through pain and loss of limb how to spot them from miles away. Lumbering, hamfisted imbeciles.
Alastor hadn't been able to go back to Hogwarts since he realized he had a shadow and had been hopping to and fro across Britain trying to lose them. For all that they were amateurs in remaining invisible, they made up for it in their tenacity. Every once in a while he would give them the slip, but they had a knack for finding him again. It was almost as if they knew where he was going to be.
There were only a handful of people who knew him that well.
The Slayer had used many restricted channels to set up a meeting with him a few days after the public declaration that Queen Hermione - a title which still drew looks of bafflement from anyone that knew her - was to kill him. After the absolute silence from the King's Court where his spies were housed, Alastor had assumed the worst and begun to formulate the next move he would have to make to ensure that the Light did not lose this war. It was a dark and hopeless road without having the assurance that the horcruxes could be taken care of, but once the Slayer had made contact, the proverbial light had broken through to shine on the situation.
Hermione was fine, alive, and still very much a part of Court, despite both she and the Slayer having blown their covers. It appeared that the dissolution of the Persephone guise had actually worked in Alastor's favor, as the King was more than willing to corrupt an upstanding member of the Light that appeared to be furious at her treatment by her former allies. Fortune favored the bold, it seemed.
Never in all his life had one of his plans worked out so well, perhaps too well. Hermione hadn't been around her friends and family since she had left them to masquerade as Persephone Damasca and he knew she needed time to sort everything out, but they could not afford to give it to her. She would have to be strong until this was done.
Her strength, however, may not be enough.
The Slayer had confided in him about the melding of the horcruxes, Draco Malfoy's involvement and the toll it was beginning to take on Hermione, as well as the capture of Neville Longbottom. All things considered, Alastor felt like he was getting the sweeter deal; if he was pitting himself up against Voldemort in terms of more spies per capita, of course. Having so many of his most trusted behind enemy lines was a bit unnerving, but they were also his most talented.
With the Slayer on their side, Malfoy the younger turning coat, and Neville to buffer the stress of housing horcruxes, Alastor was willing to bet they could turn the tide of this battle and end it properly. But that all relied on Hermione now, and he was uncertain as to her limits.
Would she be willing to kill him if it meant the Light would win? Dumbledore himself hadn't been able to kill Grindelwald all those years ago and this was an even more gnarled situation than that had been.
Alastor put it out of his mind at first, the thought of being killed during this war, but now that he was quite literally being hunted, he had been thinking of little else. Of course, he could fake his death and come roaring back during the battle to hammer the nail in the Dark Lord's coffin, although he was not in control of the events surrounding the new Queen and her King. But Alastor had survived more than enough death to know that it would find you out one of these days, whether or not you were all packed and ready or simply caught with your metaphorical pants down. Best face death with a little more dignity than that, if he had to face it at all.
Hogwarts was safe for now and ready for the assault Voldemort would rain down on them once this unpleasantness with Alastor's impending doom was done with. The remaining pockets of resistance had retreated back behind sturdier lines after the fall of the Undermarkets and a few other, but not major, hideouts. The Light was stronger than it had been since before the First War. They were ready to fight. Just one question hung in the air and dogged Moody. Was he ready to die?
The Death Eaters seemed to think so.
But Hermione could withstand this, he was sure. That was, of course, until he got a look at this new Queen himself.
It was midday in April, about two blocks south of the entrance to the Ministry, and he had spied a small group of people walking leisurely through the streets, all of them circling around a witch in beautiful gold robes. He had to do a double take to recognize the woman in the center of the group, wearing those golden robes as though they were anything but frivolous, as Hermione Granger. Her hair was gathered into a single thick braid that lay over her shoulder, golden chains with teardrop rubies across her chest below it, and in her hand was a leash. At the end of this leash, hurrying along in front of the group, was Neville Longbottom. He was clean and dressed in plain brown clothing, but whenever the Queen stopped to point something out to her avid listeners, he would kneel with his head down.
Alastor was surprised she was acting so fluently as a pureblood and a Queen, since he had been inside her head and seen for himself her reluctance to be put into that situation or to actually take advantage of it. Her eyes, which he saw as she glanced up at the rooftops curiously, were blood red.
They hadn't yet figured out how to destroy a horcrux, though now that Hogwarts was theirs to roam, they could ask Dumbledore. Surely the old man knew how to be rid of them, as he had been preparing Harry Potter to do that exact thing before he died. Or, hopefully, he would know how to reverse the damage done to Hermione before it was too late. Minerva would have to handle that conversation on her own, but he had already debriefed her on the plan he and the Slayer were about to implement and she knew what would follow. It would not be the first time she had been forced to endure a rapid promotion following the death/absence/abdication of her boss.
But those eyes, Moody observed with growing unease, they were not Hermione Granger's warm, brown shade, no...they were the cold, blood red of the King.
"Oh, Miss Skeeter?" He heard the Queen call, glancing back behind her where the blond reporter eagerly waited with the other reporters. "Come closer, I would ask something of you now that you have enough material for your article."
"Of course!" Rita Skeeter hurriedly joined the Queen at the front of the group and her enchanted quill never ceased to scratch against the parchment floating beside her.
"How many sentries do you suppose the King has placed on these roofs to ensure my safety?" Hermione was walking leisurely, gesturing upwards so that the group with her would look.
"No more than twenty." Skeeter stated, watching the Queen with a confused expression locked on her face.
"Oh, good guess, but no," With a wave of her hands, the sentries showed themselves, leaning over the rooftops to gaze down at them. There were two to every roof within a three building radius of her position and they moved at the same pace that she did. Of course, there were more she had not chosen to reveal. Moody could see a few on the streets in civilian clothing. "The reason I draw your attention to them is because I want it stated in your article that the King takes care of those he cares for."
"Seems as though you want me to write lies to better your own cause."
The Queen laughed high and cold, a laugh that belonged to someone else entirely. "That is your talent, Miss Skeeter. Don't forget our time together, once upon a time."
A look of dread washed over the reporter's face and her quill bobbed in the air for a moment.
"Now," The Queen smiled, all teeth and very little kindness. "Come along, I have a gift for you all."
Moody watched them until they vanished from sight.
A/N: I know it has been quite a while, but I assure you that I never stopped writing. Everybody should thank my lovely Beta - Moina - for sorting through the hell the last chapter, this chapter and the next one to come have been for me. Alright, I'm going back to work on the next ones, so enjoy! Tickle2Kill
