Well, here I am again. Don't groan, Jibber Monkey, it won't make me go away.
Well, without further ado, let the chapter commence!
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Hermione stood up, and took a step back, recoiling. He-Lucius-was looking strait at her, and she had a pretty good guess as to what awaited her. She recoiled, and looked back at the fire.
Ron followed her with his eyes, curious as to what was going to happen to Hermione. He hadn't stirred; he didn't know anything more then Hermione did, and didn't know if he wanted too. Ron was actually quite frightened. Nevertheless, he put on a brave face, and made to get up.
"Don't bother, Weasel" Said Lucius. "Do you really think that the Dark Lord would waste his time on scum such as yourself? Potter, you are also to stay her while Miss-"
He stopped cold. Rethinking, he said,
"-while the Miss sees him. Draco, you shall accompany her."
"Why won't you be doing it?" he asked his father.
The elder Malfoy sneered. "It is my privilege, as your elder and father, to appoint unwanted tasks upon you. I will be elsewhere, doing another job for our Lord. You shall be seeing her to the Great Hall, where you will wait with her until he comes. When he comes, you will wait outside, until they are done their chat. Then you will wait for further instructions. Do not dawdle. Good-day."
And with that, he swept out of the room. Draco looked like he could have thrown something at him, but instead took Hermione's wrist.
"C'mon" he said. "You heard him…I have to take you."
"I don't want to go." she whispered, her eyes misting over again.
"Don't cry, Hermione. It won't be so bad-"
"Not so bad! Not so bad! Who are you tell ME that it won't be so bad?"
Draco drew in an impatient breath, and looked at the ceiling. He wasn't rolling his eyes-he was merely looking up, as if he might find the answer written up there. He sighed, and said,
"Hermione, listen. I can do many things. I can ride a broom, cast spells, brew potions. I can tell you, without feeling like I am deceiving you in the least, that things will be all right. I can promise you he will not hurt you unless you screw up big time-which I know you're smart enough not to do. I can assure you that you will come out of there physically fine. One thing I can not do, however, is make you go. And if you don't, I might not come out so unharmed. Please, please…just come."
Hermione had been watching him the whole time. At his last words, she took a step towards him, and his grip on her hand loosened-but not by much. Rather then be dragged around like some type of dog, she shook him off. He walked towards the door and held it open for Hermione, who swept through it. Within a couple of minutes, they were there. So was Wormtail.
"Peter," Draco greeted as he shut the door and he and Hermione walked towards him. The great long tables were still set up, and the chairs, which didn't come as a surprise to Hermione-that is, if Draco was telling the truth and Hogwarts wouldn't be closed…
"Draco," he greeted. The word was still-his hands were not. They were wringing, quivering. Peter looked very nervous-Hermione noticed there were many of his hairs, greying with age, on his robe. He seemed quite jumpy-his eyes darted around, as though constantly seeking something. His robes were more or less the same in state and quality. As they gathered near the small set of stairs before the teacher's set of places, Hermione seemed to be shaking as much as Wormtail. She looked around, and didn't see Voldemort. She placed a hand on Draco's arm.
"Draco, …he's not here." she breathed in slight relief.
"Aren't I?" Asked a voice behind Dumbledore's turned-around chair. A figure rose from it. Wormtail and Draco, immediately swooped down on one knee and lowered their heads. Not sure what she should do, Hermione did the same.
Voldemort turned around. He was wearing a black cloak, trailing to the ground, with a huge hood that sagged at the sides. Underneath he wore black. His face was not visible from under the hood. He looked upon Hermione, and said,
"Don't be ridiculous, girl. Stand up."
He seemed to be very uptight. Hermione rose swiftly and soundlessly. Voldemort walked around the table, to the other side, until he stood directly in front of her. He motioned her forward, and she took a step-still petrified-towards him.
He paced around her once, until he stood at her side, his back to Draco, and said, "You were late."
"I am sorry, my lord-" Draco started.
"Quiet, you. I did not come here to hear your apologies. I came to tell Hermione what she needed to hear."
"Which is?" asked Hermione, shocking most of all herself. She hadn't thought that she could've spoken to the dark lord like that-not that she had been rude, sarcastic, or annoying-she had asked with pure curiosity-perhaps even a little desperateness. She needed to know. She needed to find out. It wasn't the suspense that was killing her; it was the fact that she realised she was missing a huge piece of the puzzle. She didn't know why Hogwarts would be kept open, why both her parents were dead-
"They aren't." Voldemort said simply.
Hermione stared. "How did you know-"
"I am, as you should remember from your 5th year, very skilled in Legilimens. You feel quite passionately about their death, do you not?"
Hermione nodded and looked down as her eyes glazed over again.
"Well, this will not come as any consolation, of course-"
Hermione looked up, confused.
"-but your parents are not both dead."
Hermione's jaw dropped open. After a few minutes of recovery, she closed it. The first thing she said was,
"I am going to KILL Fred and George!"
Voldemort smiled, and said,
"You will not. They were telling you the truth. David and Ann Granger are dead."
"But…" Hermione's word took all her breath. "But if…that's true…then someone…is lying…"
"My lord, if I may speak?" Draco said calmly.
Voldemort did not wish to, but Hermione seemed to be looking upon Draco as though wishing he would speak.
"All right, then."
"Hermione-" he said as he got up.
"That's Miss to you." he spat.
"…Miss, this is the reality of the situation. Your mother is dead. And so is David Granger."
Hermione was still confused. "Why don't you call him my fa-"
"Because he wasn't." said Draco softly.
You could of heard a pin drop. From a block away.
"What?" asked Hermione, who had obviously heard impeccably.
"I think that's enough, Malfoy." said Voldemort. "I'll deal with your punishment later…"
"He is right." said Voldemort. "He-David Granger-was not your father. Your mother was your birth relation, though."
Hermione turned to Draco. "That's why, isn't it?" she whispered.
"Er-Why what?"
"Miss." hissed Voldemort.
"Why what, Miss?"
"Why you wouldn't call me Granger." she said. "It's not my name by birth, is it?"
"No, Miss." Draco said softly.
"OK, you know what?" she said shrilly. "No offence, my lord, but I just lost both my parents, got brought to Hogwarts after learning it will open again in the fall, and now Draco and I are on a first-name basis. It would be really, really nice if someone-ANYone-would take two seconds to stop and ask me what was going on in MY head. How I felt. If I could be consulted. But oh no, no one bothers. No one cares. And right now, all I want to know is what you've come here to tell me so I can get OUT OF HERE. Got it?" speaking strait at Voldemort. She didn't care if she lost her life anymore-she would in the end anyhow, what was the point? Gone was the quiet, shy Hermione everyone knew. She wasn't going to be pushed around by this-this-
Hermione's anger went out like a light. It left as swiftly as it came. Her madness had been used-there was nothing else for her to say. But still, she stared defiantly, at the two standing men in front of her.
Draco looked warily at Voldemort, then meekly at Hermione. Timidly, he asked, "Miss-"
"Shut up with the Miss and talk!" Hermione barked.
Draco couldn't help it. He grinned.
"I don't see what's so funny-"
"Well," he said, in and attempt to see that another yelling match would not occur, "I can't very well talk if I shut up, can I, Hermione?"
She stared. She had heard her name again. Somehow, it felt better when she heard it. It gave her personality. "Miss" could be anybody. But Hermione…
Draco swore he saw a small smile on her face.
"That's enough. Draco, you will be severely punished later. Hermione, I called you here because you need to know something. I understand you might feel…things…but yelling will do nothing but arouse my temper."
It's amazing, Hermione thought. He's acting almost human.
"Well, I've heard you, haven't I? I need to get back to Harry and Ron, excuse me…"
She turned to leave, but Voldemort grabbed her wrist. She could not explain what happened then-it was like fire on ice. He was unbearably cold, but other then that, and the tightness of his grip, it wasn't uncomfortable.
She let her hand fall limp, and he let go. Then he said, "I'm not quite sure if you realise I'm not done with you."
Hermione froze. She knew she was in for more bad news.
"You see…I know your biological father. Very well, as a matter of fact."
Hermione stared, disbelieving. "Are you serious?"
"Yes…not only that, but I can tell you their history, and-"
"Now you've got my full attention. Please, go on."
She conjured up a chair and sat down promptly. He continued,
"They were never meant to be-when she found out he was a wizard, she went beserk. She did not want a life for her child of darkness and depth, so he left. Rather then mope around with her unborn baby, she fell in love again and married. She called her new husband, David, the father of this child, and no one was wise as to the truth."
"And, so, then…" Hermione rushed, going no where. "How do you know this?"
"The man is very close to me-I've known him all my life."
Draco smirked, and then winced-now was not the time…not when she was about to find out…
"Well-what's his last name? What's my last name?" she asked eagerly.
Voldemort felt flustered-he'd seen this coming.
"Well…I think he'd prefer it if you didn't know-"
"I need to know." Hermione said, softly but firmly.
"Fine then…"
He paused-this seemed somewhat painful for him. Then, while looking towards the ceiling for help, he said,
"Riddle."
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