The Enemy Chapter 15

Nausea bubbled up in my stomach and I held it tight, trying to ignore everything around me. Of course it did not work; who could ignore dead bodies and the stench of sizzling wands? Hermione had sunk to the floor in what was probably shock and exhaustion—it had been a good ten minutes and nobody had attended to her. Around me the chaos spread like wildfire. Everyone was going insane; it was so loud that my ears had begun to tune out the incessant buzz of high-pitched squeals. I stood quietly in a corner, because in truth I had nothing to say, nothing to do. I could not stand death, I realized. And if that was the case, then how in hell could I ever become a death eater?

It wasn't meant to be.

My father was wrong. Death was disgusting, saddening, rotting, wrong… I could go on forever on the evils and the horrors of death. Killing, even. It had shocked me when Hermione had done that but a part of me struggled to believe it was Voldemort's presence behind that unexpected move. A crumpled cloak sat in the opposite corner of the room—the Death Eaters had dragged Voldemort's carcass away from the crowd. No one wants to be reminded that their leader is gone, right? Such was the case with the Death Eaters. As for Avery, he was near Hermione's fallen form (I assumed she was unconscious.) I wanted to help her but I knew that now was not a good time. One could never tell with the Death Eaters. Were they for her, or against her?

Probably against. Who would want to be controlled by a seventeen-year-old girl? They were older, they thought themselves wiser and more experienced in the… art (or should I say reek) of death. I looked over at my father, who had taken off the binds the minute Hermione had done away with Avery. Potter, unfortunately, still sat in the furthest corner of the room, bound and probably upset. His expression tightened when he saw me looking at him and I smirked at him. Even though I'd realized that I didn't care much for the Dark Side, so to speak, I still hated Potter.

My father suddenly came up to me and snarled, "Draco. Take care of…of her. I don't want her to die; I have a feeling that he knew something like this would happen. He was prepared."

I wanted to laugh. My father, brave, cruel, causer of death… afraid to say the names of Hermione Granger and Voldemort? With a small smirk I nodded gracefully. "Of course, father," I said dutifully, as was expected. Although at the moment I didn't think he would notice if I did not address him properly.

I walked unsteadily over to Hermione and shook her gently. Finally a brilliant stroke of genius reminded me that I was indeed a wizard and could use my wand. I quickly muttered a waking spell and she arose, rubbing her forehead.

"Draco," she said softly. "Draco I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your father I promise it's just he insulted…he insulted Voldemort and I didn't want to kill him but I had to…"

I was astounded. "Hermione," I said quickly, my adrenaline gradually pumping faster and faster, "what are you talking about? You didn't kill my dad."

Her eyes grew big and glassy. "Yes I did. I killed him."

I turned around and searched the busy room for my father. He was there, walking around, quite normally… what was she on about? "Hermione," I said, pointing in his direction. "He's right there. You didn't kill him."

She stared at him and then at me, looking helpless and unhappy for a second, then it seemed that realization dawned on her face. She smiled grimly and said, "Draco, I killed him in my dreams…"

I didn't say anything. I was beyond confused. Were her dreams predictions of the future? Did they always come true? What was going on?

Finally she continued. "It means he's my enemy… anyone I dream about that ends up dying in the dream…is a traitor, is bad… is good… oh, damn it, I'm so goddamn confused. But I think that your father isn't going to be a death eater anymore now that I'm the one in charge. He's going to leave them forever."

I nodded. "I suppose that sounds about right. He wouldn't want to trust a …" I hesitated to say the word even though I'd said it with such ease up till very recently.

She smiled bitterly. "Go on. Say it. Mud blood! Mud blood! Mud blood! That's all I am, I'll never amount to anything because of my heritage, because of who I am. Race! Prejudice!  It matters to you big, pureblooded people, doesn't it? I'm not good enough! I'm nothing, I pale in comparison, even if I am the Dark Lord's heiress… just because of your fucking filthy blood!"

I was not the only one who heard this rant on Hermione's part. In fact every single death eater in the room, plus Potter, had heard it and were all staring at her in awe. "Her—" Potter began from the other side of the room. His voice sounded weak and weary.

"Shut up, Harry! Can't you see that sugarcoating the truth isn't going to do a damn thing! It's true. They don't respect me because I'm a mud blood. Mud bloods can be bad, yes… but not all of us—I'm here to cleanse the world of filth, and what you people need to realize is that not every mud blood is filthy! I am far more powerful than any one of you will ever be!"

I stared at my father, who hadn't flinched once through her tirade. "Be that as it may, Miss Granger," my father said venomously, "I do not feel that we will get along. This is where I bid everyone good bye, and do not contact me for further… activities," my father said, glaring at the tiny man with a silver hand… Pettigrew, I think.

Hermione bellowed in rage. "Lucius! Get your pureblooded arse back here right now or I will not hesitate to kill you!"

My father was smart enough to realize the truth in the threat. Hermione was more than capable of killing him. Hell she was just as powerful as her predecessor, and no one had expected that. In fact the Death Eaters had been banking on the fact that she had no power of her own; that Voldemort had supplied everything.

Even if he had, it was obvious that it was still with her.

Having stopped in his tracks, my father turned around slowly and looked at Hermione straight in the eye. I knew he was pretending not to be afraid of her, but at the moment I sensed he was just as terrified as if Hermione had been Voldemort himself. "Miss Granger," he began softly, and from experience I knew the softer he spoke the more dangerous he was apt to become (although in this case he was at Hermione's mercy, I doubted he would dare to try anything). "We meet again."

"Of course, Lucius," Hermione said coldly. "How could we not?"

The words exchanged between them were formal, cold, dangerous, and beautiful all at once. Paradoxically beautiful, I mused to myself. Everything about Hermione was.

"I beg of you to excuse me for the morning," my father said. "I have previous engagements that I must attend this afternoon."

"You are not excused," Hermione countered, "unless you sign in blood your oath under me."

Lucius's half-smile had definitely turned into a sneer at this point and he looked almost distressed, something I had never seen from my sure and steady father. Everyone knew that signing in blood was basically signing your life away unless one of the participants died or something. For example, my father had blood signed with Voldemort; now that Voldemort was dead the bond was broken.

Lucius broke out into a run at that moment. He bolted towards the door and Hermione raised her wand—I noticed the gleam of anger in her eyes—and began to shout out the horrible words once more, "Ava—"

She was cut off, quite surprisingly, by Potter. Potter had apparently been picking at his binds until they were loose (how he did this I do not know, unless the binds were not magical) and now was here, brave and valiant… and oh-so-nauseatingly-perfect-ready-to-save-another-life. Even though a small part of my mind thanked him, this was one of my family members after all…

"Hermione, don't," Potter pleaded firmly, if there even was such a thing.

"Harry, get out of the way! You there, stop Lucius!" The Death Eater that Hermione was pointing to was scared shitless; he grabbed Lucius under a death-grip and would not let him go. When she was satisfied Hermione turned her attention back to Harry.

"I said don't interfere," she snarled at him. "It isn't your place to."

"Hermione," Potter said slowly, "I can't… what the fuck, what is up with you! Is Voldemort still in your head? You aren't the bloody Dark Lady; you're just a witch who's exceptionally smart at Hogwarts. Come on, let's go back and leave this mess… or let's let the older people take care of this… come on, you, me… and that bonehead—Malfoy, Jr.—over there, we can all go back to school now, right?"

"Shut up," Hermione stated simply. "I'm not leaving, this is my duty. I don't give a fuck about what… Harry, I love you. You're an amazing friend and will always be… but I…aw shit."

Hermione's confusing and conflicting speech was put to an end by the arrival of two very surprised and very familiar figures. There was no doubt as to who had brought them here and by what means.

Professor Dumbledore himself, and behind him trailed a certain red-headed weasel.

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I dropped the conversation with Harry as I looked with surprise on Professor Dumbledore and Ron. What? For a second I recalled that I had indeed wished that Professor Dumbledore could help me sort out this mess…it must've been that thought that had brought him here, but then what was Ron doing?

"What's going on?" I asked weakly. It was too much to handle for one night… I'd always been conflicted but now the conflict had reached colossal proportions. What was I? Was I follower of the Dark or was I good? I wanted so badly to be both I didn't know what to do except split myself in two and by miracle of miracle I had enough sense to know that splitting myself in two was really not a pleasant option.

"I'd like to know myself," Professor Dumbledore's authoritative voice boomed out over everyone. The Death Eaters scrambled, trying to leave the room, and I noticed that the man holding Lucius had let him go, and the two of them were madly rushing towards the front of the room.

Dumbledore soon put a stop to that, even though I was sure he didn't have a complete idea of what was really happening. He sent out a large Stunning charm to everyone and the Death Eaters were still, little statues and reminders of what torture my life really was. The only people left mobile were Harry, Ron, the professor, Draco, and of course, me. Shocked, I turned to Dumbledore and greeted him with a dropping jaw.

"Hermione, child," Dumbledore began wearily. "I do not understand what's happening to you."

I shuddered, and somewhere in me felt repulsion for the man I once adored. More Voldemort influence, or had my outlook on life really changed that much? Once again I was thrown mercilessly into the pit of confusion and unhappiness. I just wanted it all to be over, just wanted to pick a side and get it done with…!

"Professor," Harry began, "She… the Dark Lord's heiress…" I tuned him out as he related what he knew to Voldemort, and slumped down on the ground, hugging my knees to my chest and wishing I could be alone with Draco. Deep down inside I was just a teenage girl and all I wanted was grades and my boyfriend. I didn't need this extra heap of problems on top of what I already had as a teen.

After Harry's little recap was well and done I finally realized that Ron was there as well. He was staring at me, mouth wide open and eyes disbelieving, but looking at the few bodies that scattered the room, he definitely believed what he had heard.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Ron, and noticed that Draco shot me a look of surprise.

"Well, I was up in Dumbledore's office…reporting you two missing… when Dumbledore began to slowly disappear. I grabbed onto his robes at the last minute and I guess I was brought along…suppose it's because of your thought powers, Hermione?"

"You don't have to sound bitter about it," I replied. "It just happened, okay? Accept it."

"Hermione," Dumbledore spoke up. "Perhaps you don't realize what a big deal this is but believe me this is very important. Of course… ultimately the decision is up to you. Years ago a certain Tom Riddle took the same decision—to be good, or to be evil. You know what Harry, Ron, and I want of you but of course you will be the one to eventually choose and carve your path. Good luck."

I looked at him, rather dumbfounded. I called him here to give me advice like that? Advice I'd known for quite a while and advice that even Sybil Trelawney could have predicted?!

Maybe I'd been wrong about Dumbledore being a panacea for everything. Maybe he was far away from what I'd thought. I probably didn't even need him. I could do this by myself, couldn't I? I'd been doing it so far with just Draco to help me, and that's al I wanted. I needed Harry and Ron, maybe, like a side dish or something… but Dumbledore I could do without.

"Professor Dumbledore," I began, channeling my fury into words and not actions ( I fought hard against myself just to keep from Avada'ing him right there—at least I still retained a few morals!) "I think that we must part our ways… thank you for your support but I feel I shan't need it any longer."

I had meant for the sentence to be grand and graceful and eloquent and marble beauty but it came out like a desperate plea for help, and Dumbledore knew that. With a small smile he nodded. "Very well, I suppose you should make your decision about right now." Another smile later and a small pop, and the man had apparated away. I stared at the space where he had been with, amazingly, no sense of pity or unhappiness. I really wasn't going to miss him, at least, not yet.

"Ron," I said, turning to the boy that had been one of my best friends for six years, "thank you for not killing me on the spot."

He laughed hollowly, and it was a sound I recognized quite easily. The sound of false, hopeful laughter that maybe everything wasn't as bad as it seemed. It was wrong. Everything was as bad, no, worse than what it seemed like. Good had left the picture to become an outlaw, and I was going to have to search for it if I wanted it. "Hermione," he said as warmly as he could muster at the moment, "I can't believe it, but Merlin knows it's true, huh?"

I shrugged. "Stuff happens, Ron. I've had good three or four months to get used to this concept, and even though stuff elevated over the last few nights… I was prepared. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner, but you realize that Voldemort had thought of it."

"Voldemort killed Harry's parents, Hermione," Ron pleaded. "He's been your best friend too… you can't just leave us for him, you can't!"

I sighed. People had to understand I was not on Voldemort's side, just the same as I wasn't on Dumbledore's side. "Ron," I explained. "I'm not leaving you for Voldemort. He's dead, and I'm not about to follow faithfully in his footsteps. I'm just saying that I'm not going to fight against the Death Eaters considering that technically I am one. Not to mention I am also appointed Dark Lady. You understand I can't just go and spoil the entire operation of Death Eaters?"

"Why the hell bloody not?" he asked me angrily. "They're bad! They hate people like you, Hermione! I'm not saying being muggleborn is bad at all, but… they say that. How can you go and seek protection under those who will kill you in half a second?"

"They won't kill me, Ron," I said quietly. "They know I'm far more dangerous than they am. I can wipe everyone out within matter of seconds, and I intend to do so should things get out of control. And for that matter, I don't plan on associating with the Death Eaters. I'm leaving them just the way I'm leaving you."

Ron slumped over in defeat and gave me a withering look. "All right, Hermione. You go…discover your…inner self or whatever. Who you really are. Are you Voldemort's Heiress or Harry Potter's best friend? Hell, either way you're famous. Good luck."

I found his words more touching than Dumbledore's although they were far less articulate. They were still pretty in their own regard, because of the honesty and the candidness that was Ron. Ron couldn't hold back around me and it was something I would miss about him. But I didn't know; maybe I would see him soon. He was in his seventh year now so he also disappeared with a pop. I wondered where he went—probably to Hogsmeade.

Lastly I turned to Harry who met my expression grimly. "I'm going to give you a chance to get away," I said wryly to him. "Now that the Death Eaters are frozen you can get yourself out of here before they remember they're going to kill you. You know they won't hesitate; they've been out for you since what you originally did, yeah?"

Harry nodded. "I'll leave, Hermione. I know you're going to say the same thing to me that you said to Ron—this whole thing about how you are neither good nor bad… but I know what's happened, and I think Malfoy—Draco knows as well."

Surprised I looked over at Draco, who nodded at Harry. What did they know?

"Hermione," Draco began gently. "Do you remember what Voldemort said, a very long time ago, when he first gave you the Dark Mark?"

I shook my head, because of all the tumultuous events that had happened that night. I couldn't remember a selected sentence; after all usually my memory was limited to textbooks and the likes of those sorts of things.

"He said that you wouldn't want to go back… and I know what he meant. Hermione, he knew it, and now you know it too. It isn't about good or evil at all… that's what's fed to the general population—even the death eaters think it's about good and evil, except for a few, like my father. My father walked out because he knew it would change…something would change. Do you know what?" Draco looked at me expectantly and Harry nodded.

"Hermione," Harry said, picking up where Draco left off. "You do know what we're talking about, and you don't want to see it. It's just power, isn't it? Good and evil fade away when you think about power? Your justifications for everything have been power. You are under the influence of Voldemort's immense power."

I nodded weakly because I knew ultimately the two of them were right. It was power. Voldemort had risen to the top not because of a deep hatred for muggle borns such as myself, but because of a huge want for power. Lucius Malfoy had supported Voldemort not only because he too wasn't very fond of muggle borns but because it would give him even more power.

When you had riches, when you had your life assured, all you wanted was power. And I was greedy.

"Harry," I said slowly, "I'm sorry. I…I can't let it go, I want it, I need it… but I have achieved something Voldemort and Lucius couldn't. I understand this."

Harry smiled genuinely, something I hadn't seen on anyone's face for a very long time. " 'Course you can, Hermione. Hello? Smartest witch that Hogwarts has seen, recently?"

We laughed, and then I remembered the frozen Death Eaters. "I have to let them go," I said. "And then I'm leaving myself. I don't know where to, but I'm not going back to Hogwarts, and I'm not… going to stay here and do lunch with the Death Eaters."

Harry nodded. "I agree. It's the best for you, and when you're ready, please contact me, okay? I love you, Hermione." He hugged me and disappeared quickly, as if he wanted to leave before either of us changed our minds.

So I was left there with Draco, then. I turned to him and smiled. "You're coming with me," I said.

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I smiled at her. "Where are you going, then? What do you plan on doing?" I asked her. I was willing to go with her. School could teach me no more than I already knew about life and danger and death and everything I had avoided for the six years I'd dutifully attended.

"I need to go and dig deeper into Voldemort's past. Something compels me to do that, and I'm going to fulfill it. You will help me." Her authoritative tone was nothing short of scary and I nodded quickly.

As we prepared to embark on this journey of pure power, because good and evil had been left behind in the dust along with broken fragments of Hermione's past life, I couldn't help but think about the enemy. Who was the enemy, ultimately? In the beginning I had been the enemy. Hermione and I had loathed each other.

Time moved on and Voldemort became the greater enemy for her. I became linked towards her in a way that was quite inexplicable, and as time wore on, even Voldemort joined the same link. Then my father was her enemy, and then Potter, and Weasley, and the entire Gryffindor house… but at the end, it was she who was her enemy. She was her own enemy, her own adversary, her own rival. So was the paradox between friend and foe. You just never knew—change happened everywhere. I wasn't saying that tomorrow Potter and I would become best friends, but that childhood hate had all but dissipated slowly into the air.

She unfroze the death eaters and stepped outside into warm midday sunshine. I followed her and she turned down the path, a glint in her eye. I ignored it—I was in no mood for more adventures, and more…ah, interesting knowledge. I began on what I hoped was a lighter and happier topic.

"You said you loved me," I began. "That's a start… Voldemort didn't love anybody."

She looked at me, the glint in her eye sparkling harder. "And how do you know?" she whispered, looking straight at me. For a second I thought I saw a flash of red eyes in her normally brown ones, but I shook my head and the vision had disappeared.

The implications were immense. How did I know, really? Maybe I was just as clueless as Weasley. What had Hermione been hiding from me, then, if anything at all? How much didn't I know? Maybe I didn't know anything at all… hell, instead of this journey coming to an end, maybe everything was just about to begin. Maybe I was as empty as the rest of them.

A/N: THE END-

I left it at a 'wondering' ending where you can think about what you want Hermione to be in the end. Hey, at least they're together, right? I hope everyone understood the implications at the end and yes they were completely on purpose, just to… add mystery to how much Hermione hid from Draco. If you realize most of the narration of the events come from Draco and if he's missing something then... heh, let's see.

Anyway, if you are curious as to know what the votes for good and evil were, out of those of you that voiced an opinion about it:

3 of you wanted a good Hermione

9 of you wanted an evil Hermione

5 of you didn't care which one/liked the confused Hermione

(and thanks to the rest of you that didn't pick any as well!)

Last but not least I want to thank everyone that has read this story and/or reviewed. I know a lot of people don't review but I want to thank you anyway because at least someone's reading, right? I'm excited I've finally finished a DM/HG fanfic.

As for a sequel, at this point I really don't know. The ending is open enough to do one but I don't think I will. If I do, it will be a very long time from now, so don't look out for one within the next month or so—but I'll put my decision in my bio when I make that decision. I'm a procrastinator, I know.

With all that said, I want to thank you again, sorry for this blasted long author's note, and happy reading and reviewing! Tell me what you thought of this!