The Enemy Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm a little sad that this story has fewer reviews than my other story Delusion (which isn't half as good in my opinion) so review this story so it can catch up!

I gasped, in spite of my usual façade of an emotionless soul. I could barely stand the screams she emitted; I wanted to run over there and help her, wanted to beat Voldemort to a bloody pulp…the raw, stinging sensation in my own arm was only a dull background as I stood there, rooted to the spot and staring at her. I couldn't run over there. Voldemort was mad; I knew it. As her screams subsided, the heavy night air seemed to wash us all senseless, and finally she looked up, her eyes bloodshot. She did not look at me; instead, she was staring at Voldemort. The only question that remained hanging in the slight air was a simple one. Why? Why the bloody hell had he just given Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's best friend, Prefect, top student and all around light-side-supporter the Dark Mark?

My father seemed to be wondering the same thing.

"M-m-my Lord," he sputtered. Ordinarily I would have cursed him in my head for acting so weakly in front of someone. Malfoys were not weak, I had always been taught that we never bowed down to anyone. And here my father was, kneeling at the feet of some deranged fool who wanted to take over the world.

"Lucius," Voldemort said coldly, although his eyes were on Hermione. "You will be questioning my authority at this point, I presume?"

"Oh, no, my Lord," he blubbered. "Not at all…merely wondering why you would choose to give this…mud blood the sacred Dark Mark?"

"Malfoy!" Voldemort bellowed. "Did not I say that you will never address this girl as mud blood again! I suppose it's in your genes, is it?" he said furiously, his eyes glinting with evil. "You'll just have to learn the hard way. Crucio! "

I averted my eyes away as I heard my father writhing on the ground, although he did not scream. We kept our emotions bottled inside--to scream and cry is a sure sign of pure weakness. And we are not weak.

I noticed Hermione had averted her eyes as well. She looked at me in horror, her pupils so dilated her eyes were a mass of black. She must be so scared, I thought wildly. Imagine receiving the Dark Mark before you have time to prepare for it.

After about a minute, Voldemort lazily flicked his wand and beckoned my father to get up. He did, shakily, and I knew he was angry but would never display it. "I am sorry, my Lord," he whispered.

"It is not to me that you will be apologizing," Voldemort said coldly. "Rather, you shall apologize to the one you insulted in the first place."

My father's eyes grew wide with horror and anticipation of the deed. I rather sympathized with the old bastard at this point--after years of being told mud bloods were beneath him, he had to apologize to one, and one that was probably a good thirty years younger than him as well.

"Miss Granger is waiting," Voldemort said softly.

Lucius turned to Hermione and muttered a quick apology. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger," he said curtly. "It shan't happen again."

Hermione, ever so polite, squeaked, "That's quite alright," in a tiny, almost unrecognizable voice.

Voldemort chuckled softly. "Now you might be wondering why I've done this."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I stared at him, trying to keep my jaw shut. Of course I was wondering why he'd bloody ruined my life! Giving me the Dark Mark! I trembled as I remembered the pain when it had first been blazed into my arm. It had hurt so much; the pain was almost indescribable. I had never felt anything like that--pure agony; torment like no other. Even now, the raw flesh was stinging, and I fought to keep my attention off of it. Curse the Malfoys! Curse Voldemort! How could Draco have brought me here? Given me the Dark Mark? I never wanted to talk to the devil again!

Voldemort was smiling now; a hideous thing, I felt as if I'd rather see him kill me than see him smile again. "Well, Lucius, young Master Malfoy, and Miss Granger, I do have my reasons."

We waited. Nobody even exhaled a breath; it was too noticeable and I'd quickly learned that as long as Voldemort's attention was not directed to you, you were safe.

Finally he continued. "You see, I wish to remain powerful, and I have been looking for a way to gain immortality."

I tried to hold back the smirk that was forming on my face--hell--he had been looking, and had been quite unsuccessful for that matter.

"However," and here the old devil frowned, "I may or may not be successful in this quest. As of yet, I have not found a way, and sadly, I am approaching an age where a back-up plan is needed."

We all pondered this for a while, as he paused again for suspense and dramatic effect. Very much like Snape, I observed.

"In other words, I need an heir."

"And who will you heir be, my Lord," Lucius Malfoy asked, more to himself than to Voldemort. I was sure he was thrilled--Draco would get to be heir and all would be perfect.

"My heir is right here, Lucius. Can you not figure it out?"

All eyes turned to me, even the Death Eaters in the background who had kept quiet through all of this. I noticed there were only four death eaters--I suppose only four of them had Voldemort's full trust. Enough at least, to find out who his heir would be. Everyone knew that if the heir had been Draco, Voldemort would not have acted quite so shifty throughout the ordeal. But me? Why was Voldemort going to make me his heir? Whatever had I done?

"Yes. Hermione Granger is my heir. Any guesses as to why?" Voldemort rather looked as if he was enjoying himself. To be perfectly honest, I was a little more surprised than upset that I was picked as Voldemort's heir. There was no way in hell that I would ever become his heir, but it was…almost an honor that Voldemort would pick me over any of his Death Eaters and their faithful children.

"Because," Draco said softly after a small spell of silence, "She has absolutely no binding ties to the wizarding world. She does not come from a family of light-side wizards. In fact the only connection she has with the light-side is that her best friends are both from it. She can easily severe these ties. She would make the perfect heir," he said breathlessly. "In fact, she is probably one of the smartest witches around…"

"The smartest witch, Master Malfoy," Voldemort said, looking pleased. "I made sure that she was. Anyhow, your answer was quite precise. She is incredibly talented and her talent will extend quite easily to the Dark Side. She has no bonds with the light side."

"I won't!" I cried out, before I could stop myself. This was so much more serious than I had ever imagined it could be. "Never will I give up my friendships, my morals, my values…to become the heir of Lord Voldemort!" I spat it out and tried to hold my tears back.


"You see, gentlemen," Voldemort said, glancing around at his death eaters, "She has the decency to call me Lord. The first step to acceptance."

I opened and closed my mouth furiously, but had the sense not to speak. After all, if Voldemort could perform the Cruciatus curse upon one of his most loyal followers, he wouldn't hesitate to perform it on me. But then again, I was his heir.

"My Lord," one of the death eaters spoke. "I fail to see why you would pick this…mu--young lady as your heir. I mean, what is your connection to her…and she is friends with Potter, is she not…she will betray us…"

Damn right I will, I thought violently. I hated all these death eaters--I wanted nothing more than to go back to Hogwarts and not have a symbol of evil on my arm.

"Avery," Voldemort said. "The points you bring up are all quite true. I do not have a connection with her, but do you expect me to croak anytime soon?"

"No, my Lord."

"Well, then, I shall make a connection with her. And what was your other point?"

"Er…her best friend is Potter."

"Oh yes. Which makes her so much more crucial to us, doesn't it?" He walked around, knowing he'd confused all the death eaters, Draco, and me very much. And the worst part was that the old bastard enjoyed it. It was his sick and twisted idea of fun, messing with people's lives.

Nobody spoke; everyone was too afraid in case they ignited his wrath. "What? Nobody attempts to solve the puzzle?" He asked, as if he was questioning someone's weekend plans.

Still, not a word. I could almost hear Harry and Ron in my head--perhaps they were wondering where I was. Then again, maybe not. It had been late when I sneaked out, so late that everyone would think I was asleep. The same went for Draco.

"All of you!" Voldemort finally burst out. "Do you not understand? If Harry Potter's best friend becomes the heir of the Dark Lord…what will people say about the Boy Who Lived? They'll say it was fluke, it was not meant to be…"

A nervous chatter followed his little remark, and I wanted to throw him into a vat of boiling water. It was so right, so true…I hated him! He could not control me; if I was heir I would abolish the Dark side…and then Voldemort spoke, and any hope vanished from my soul.

"Has anybody ever heard of the Firehorn potion?" Voldemort questioned.

It was as if alarm bells were going off in my head. I distinctly remembered making that potion with Draco, but the pressure I was under right now kept me from remembering what it did…I searched my brains, which had never ceased to fail me, cursing them at the same time. Why couldn't I remember? What was it? For the first time, I felt utterly and completely helpless. I could not remember. I had always prided myself on a superb memory, and here I could not remember what a potion that I had spent four months on set out to do.

Voldemort began to explain what exactly that damn potion did. My eyes grew wide as I heard him speak, and Snape's words rang in my head. "The Firehorn potion, for all you idiots that failed your potions class," he said, looking directly at the death eater called Avery, "will allow me to control Miss Granger. I can listen to all her thoughts, and change them to suit my wishes. I can make her embarrass herself in front of an entire class, can change her looks, I can make her commit murder if I bloody well please."

Avery's eyes grew wide. "Will you have her kill Potter?"

Voldemort scowled. "No, you bloody idiot, that will send her straight to Azkaban. This is my heir! She will not have Potter's soiled blood on her hands. He is my kill, and I will kill him before I pass on my legacy."

Lucius spoke up. "My Lord…you cannot administer the potion forever, what will happen when…"

"When I die, you mean?" Voldemort's eyes glittered angrily. I suppose the thought of death for him was the ultimate fear. "Obviously you have not done in-depth research on the Firehorn potion. Whatever I make her do, even when I stop inhabiting her thoughts, it will linger with her! It will effect her always. And when she gets the taste of everything, she'll never want to leave it. It's perfect."

I listened to the last line of his speech, completely confused. Whatever it was, I would not follow his will.

The whole ordeal was so surprising and unexpected.

What would become of me?

"And Lucius," Voldemort added. "You'll probably wonder why I didn't tell you all this right off. If I had, would you have agreed to make your son bring her to me?"

I hated him. And when she gets the taste of everything, she'll never want to leave it. Oh, Voldemort, I thought angrily. It's evident you do not know Hermione Granger.

A/N: Yep, this chapter is called 'Answers' because it is full of answers! A little on the short side, I know, but I don't want to keep going or otherwise it will end up way too long. Tell me what you think of this plot idea--where it goes from here and stuff like that. And as always, please, please review. I really appreciate them, believe me, they really help get rid of writer's block! By the way, that last sentence is very important "And when she…never want to leave it". That's why I made her comment on it; it's vital in later chapters. Ciao!