Chapter 1: The Threat
AN: Doing a rewrite : ) I love Harry/Voldemort stories where Harry maintains his values and morals but is pushed the brink due to Voldemort's scheming. Here's my take on how well the boy-who-lives is able to survive the Dark Lord once he decides to put his entire focus on gaining control and loyalty over the boy prophesized to be his downfall. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1
A torch flickered lazily, casting the dark corridor in shadows as the amber flames glowed and hissed into the still air. The flames reflected dimly off the damp grey walls as the massive snake glided down the cobblestones, slithering through the cracked door. She reared her head, letting out a sharp hiss as coal black eyes gazed upon the wary occupants, a merciless glint revealing wisdom and a cunning one did not usually see within the wild eyes of an animal. Not that many cared to stare eye-to-eye with a reptile as fierce as this one. A whimper escaped from the room which was quickly cut off as a louder, more sinister laugh filled the air.
"Shut your filthy mouth, you disgusting blood traitor! She only kills when my master tells her to. And I don't think he wants either of you dead," there was a slight pause before the cloaked man drawled the last word, "yet."
"Come Malfoy, is that how you treat my new guests?" A soft voice, almost velvety, inquired. Hermione's head jerked up, guarded eyes tracking the tall, slender man who had noiselessly materialized behind the looming snake. If you could even call him a man, thought Hermione in revulsion, knowing the truth behind the now almost youthful face staring down at her. She heard plenty of horrific accounts listing the revolting offences conducted by the man who harbored such scarlet red eyes, almost demon some claimed, which now swept over her and Ron in amused contemplation.
Lucius Malfoy immediately dropped to his knee with a murmured, "my Lord." The pureblood elitist dipping his neck in submissions as the dark lord swept past him without a glance. Hermione could not suppress the violent shiver crawling up her spine as the dark lord, the man known as Lord Voldemort, drew near.
"Welcome to my humble abode Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley." He reached out a long, cold, pale white finger sliding it slowly down Hermione's cheek, catching it at the base of her chin and forcing her eyes up. "I was positively thrilled to learn the two of you have accepted my hospitality." Shrinking away in revulsion, he quickly grasped her jaw tightly, a cold laugh escaping from his pleased lips. It wasn't the type of laugh that filled with mirth and delight. No, she thought, this wasn't even truly a laugh. There was no joy, no happiness to be heard. It was cruel, filled with darkness and only promised pain. It was a self-gratifying laugh, from one who found amusement where no one else would dare.
"Let go of her," Ron shouted, taking a step forward and raising his hand. Before he was even within an arm's length of gripping Voldemort's wrist, the redhead was levitated into the air and thrown bodily against the wall behind them. He landed with a dull thud, falling to the ground. Groaning, the ginger teenage lifted a shaky hand to towards his temple, trailing the shaking fingers to the back of his skull as he grimaced in pain.
"Ron!" Hermione watch in horror as he tried to regain his feet, but with another silent flick of his wand Voldemort shackles materialized, pinning Ron tightly to the wall. Releasing her, he strode over to him; Ron silently glared back in defiance as the dark lord approached him.
"Mr. Weasley, surely your household has taught you some manners? You are before a Lord, after all. You should show appropriate respect, reverence even." He paused, tilting his head in mock consideration as he stared down upon the pale, freckled teen. "I know your kin has abandoned the ways of old, holding in contempt what should be held pure. Forsaking what should be preserved. Perhaps a lesson is in order?"
The youngest Weasley male held his head up high, brown eyes narrowing in disgust. "You know nothing of manners, of what is deserved," spat Ron. Hermione could see a trail of blood dripping from his hair, disappearing into his robes at the base of his neck from where he has struck their stone cell.
Taking another step closer, Voldemort raised his wand and Ron visibly flinched. "Ah, I see some of Mr. Potter's foolish bravery has rubbed off on his little sidekick," he smiled, it did not touch his eyes, "or perhaps I should say his stupidity is truly the culprit depriving you of any logic. Are you so eager to meet death, Mr. Weasley? I would be happy to oblige." The red orbs darted back towards her shaking form. "I only need one of you."
Hermione swallowed, her mouth painfully dry as she watched the most feared wizard in history toy with Ron. Her friend clearly was terrified, yet trying to act brave.
"Tell me boy, do you seek death?" She prayed he would not bait him. Her eyes shifted between the two. Now was not the time to draw lines, they needed to survive so that they could escape.
Ron's stare shifter to her. Minutely she shook her head, silently pleading for him to make it through this encounter. With a slight intake of breath, Ron adverted his gaze to the ground and shook his head feebly.
"That is not good enough Mr. Weasley; I want to hear you beg me to spare your life."
Brown eyes snapped back up in fury, his face had paled to the point of looking ghostly and his red hair stood up brightly against the black and grey colored wall. Biting his lip, his determined gazed turned to Hermione who was rooted with fear.
"Please," she heard herself beg, barely above a whisper. "Just leave him alone."
The red eyes turned towards her. She could see the delight dancing within his cold features; he found this entertaining, their lives worth nothing more than to further his own objectives. As she dared to maintain his stare, she saw something more, something that drenched her with a cold fear. She could also see the hunger within, the desire to harm both of them. And she could see the madness. There was no humanity as he gazed between her and her best friend, only cold calculation and minor interests as he determined how he could best use them. Use them to get at Harry, she was certain.
"I may spare his life if he acknowledged what we all know to be true. Both of your lives rest in my hands." He paused, turning back to Ron. "if," he repeated softly, the single syllabus rolling off his tongue, there was a hiss like quality, "you survive the night, it will only be because I allow it."
"And then what, will you just kill us tomorrow, or the next day after whatever plan you have for us has been completed?" Hermione's voice shook as she glared up at the dark lord, the man responsible for this war they had been plunged into. She was pleased to note that her voice did not crack, belaying her terror. She sounded a whole lot braver than she felt. Was this how Harry felt, each time he'd confronted his parents murderer? Utterly alone and hopeless, gripping on to any strength that she was barely able to muster.
She forced herself to not cower away, to not shrink back in fear as both the dark lord and his silver haired minor stared down upon her, the former in consideration, the latter in disgust. She held firm, forcing herself to be brave, needing to deflect Voldemort's attention from Ron. Her friend had that stubborn look in his eye again that he often got when he was mad with Harry. And if Hermione knew anything, which she obviously did, then that defiance might quickly get him killed. She needed time to try and figure this whole mess out and Ron needed to stay alive while she did.
She was brought out of her thoughts as Voldemort chuckled. "This generation is filled with such fire, wouldn't you agree Lucius?" The Malfoy Lord stared between her and his lord in bewilderment, clearly torn between wanting to agree with whatever the Dark Lord stated and his own disgust of mudbloods and blood traitors. Voldemort's words almost sounded like a complement. "Though, I haven't seen any spine in your own offspring yet, which I find interesting. "
The silver eyes sharped, a fury she did not want to behold directed her way at the slight his son took on her behalf. "I have brought Draco up to be cunning and ready to serve you, my lord," he began. Hermione could clearly see him trying to balance regaining standing for his son without actually counter what Voldemort had just said. The proud pureblood would not argue his lord, even when he clearly despised the observation just made. "My son certainly knows your strength and his rightful place in the wizarding world is to serve you. I fear insects such as these unworthy adolescents sometime mistake bravery with foolishness."
"Perhaps," mused the Dark Lord, his tone refusing to lend weight to his true thoughts on the matter. He turned back towards his two prisoners. "I will spare you both for now. I'd rather place your wellbeing in the hands of another. We shall see what he values, yours or his life."
"You using us as bait." It wasn't a question, Ron's voice came out broken as he realized the truth.
"How astute," drawled Lucius Malfoy, his disdain for them clearly winning out over his desire to be submissive to his lord. "Did you think that the Dark Lord just wanted your duplicitous company?"
Ron blushed making his hair stand out even more, but did not back down "Well, you're out of luck. Dumbledore isn't allowing Harry to receive any correspondence, there's no way to tell him we're here. You won't be able to trick him into surrendering." Hermione could see the triumph in his eyes as Lucius remained silent without a comeback. But Voldemort did not seem concerned.
"If Dumbledore thinks he can block the boy from me by simply hindering a letter then he greatly underestimates my strength over him. Within the hour he will know what I have done and exactly what I desire if he hopes for either of you survive this encounter."
"Harry won't surrender just to save us," stammered Hermione, knowing as soon as the words left her mouth that yes, that was exactly what Harry would do. The smirk twisting Voldemort's almost handsome features told her that he knew exactly what Harry would do as well.
"I think that your friend will be here sooner than you think, Miss Granger," he promised softly. "Come Lucius, let us prepare for our next visitor. His stay will be a bit more," he paused, his lips twitching up fractionally, "permanent."
Turning, Lord Voldemort swept from the room, his black flowing robes silently twirling behind him. Lucius Malfoy gave them one last smirk of contentment, silver eyes washing over them knowingly before he too spun on his heels, following his master from the cell. The door clicked shut with a resounding thud, an echoing snap sounded as the bolt locking them in magically sealing itself.
Turning quickly, Hermione rushed to Ron's side. He was still shackled to the wall, staring dejectedly towards where the two dark wizards had just departed. "Do you think Harry will come to him?" Asked Ron quietly, gazing at the locked door, a frown adjourning his pale features.
With a sigh, Hermione sat down beside him and shook her head, too afraid to respond.
AN: made some changes and improved the original. I'm going back and updating all the chapters with some tweaks. I welcome any feedback and requests!
