Title: A Return to Normalcy
Author: Noiri
Rating: T
Genre: Action/Adventure/Humor
Pairings: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Hermione/Tom (AKA Voldemort)
Summary: Old age is accompanied by a slew of medical complications that even the Dark Lord is not immune to. In a fit of discomfort, Voldemort finds a brilliant solution with startling consequences.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Yes! Voldemort/Tom and Hermione alone in the same room! Stockholm Syndrome in reverse! Took me long enough…
How long Harry lay crouched by the staircase, he did not know. There was something in air of Voldemort's home. Voldemort himself, it seemed, lived on absolutely nothing. Harry could hear someone talking, muttering, or otherwise pacing the floor all afternoon. Harry's ear had melded nicely with the stone floor, and every once in a while Harry turned his head to make sure that Hermione was still there. The air had grown insufferably thick by dinnertime (Harry's stomach was growling). He had half a mind to get up and ask Voldemort for supper, but thought better of it. I must be breathing in toxins, Harry though dully, as he felt himself dozing off.
For the second time that week, Harry awoke with very little notion of where he was. Someone had apparently found him and Hermione, and placed them in separate rooms. To Harry's dismay, the room he woke up in was not nearly as nice in the room from the previous day. The air, no longer thick, was now cold and uninviting. Harry dragged himself from a hard plank (he assumed that it was meant to be a bed) and made for the door. Of course, Voldemort had locked it. "Alohomora," Harry muttered, pointing his wand at the uncooperative doorknob. Instead of the familiar click he expected, the door decided to seal itself completely into the wall, so that Harry could not even see light between the cracks. Instantaneously, Peter Pettigrew appeared in Harry's room. "Voldemort still trusts you?" Harry spat with disbelief. Wormtail's face contorted, though he seemed unable to voice a response. "Remus was right," Harry said, suddenly savoring his time alone with the traitor. "I should've just let them finish you off in 3rd year. Not to worry, though, I'm sure Voldemort will kill you soon. It's only a matter of time before he sees how you fail at everything you do." Harry raised his wand in a slightly threatening manner, too tired and hopeless to care about the consequences.
"Wait!" Wormtail said, sounding very much like a rat again. "Harry Potter, I regret my … past actions!"
"Do you?" Harry said coldly, satisfied with Wormtail's vulnerable position. "Then tell me what Voldemort is planning to do with us!" He jabbed his wand violently into Wormtail's large neck.
"I … I … don't know," squeaked Pettigrew.
"Liar!" Harry pushed Wormtail against the wall, hoping that Voldemort would not burst through the door. Wormtail tried, unsuccessfully, to grab Harry's wand with his silver hand.
"The Dark Lord …" Wormtail choked out, "does not tell me his plans …"
"Oh, right," Harry said, loosening his grip. "He wouldn't be that thick to tell someone worthless like you everything he wanted to do." Despite Harry's efforts to arouse Pettigrew's anger, however, the round man remained as cowardly looking and shaky as before. "Then where's Hermione?" Pettigrew paled. He put his hand to his mouth, chewing furiously on his fingernails. Beneath the chatter, Harry thought he made out the words "Lucius", "Dolohov", and "dealing". Harry's mind raced. Dealing? But where? He pressed his wand pointedly into Pettigrew's neck. "Tell me," said Harry, trying to sound calm, "Where she is."
"N- Next door … near …" Wormtail squealed. Harry breathed. So Voldemort had not taken her to some underground torture chamber. Now, Harry thought it's time to break out. Harry kicked futilely at the melded door, which was about as helpful as kicking any other place in the foot-thick walls. "Argh!" He shot a glance at Wormtail, whose behind seemed glued to the opposite wall, his eyes darting at every crack in the ceiling. "No help, are you? Useless, useless," Harry growled. Harry took out his wand again. "Reducto!" Nothing. "Alohomora!" The doorknob jingled, but the door remained encapsulated in the wall. "Incendio! Ignus Imasia!" The door refused to so much as even budge. Harry pondered for a while. Parseltongue, perhaps, might help. "Open up, you stupid door!" Harry hissed, waving his wand furiously.
While Harry performed verbal acrobatics and all sorts of nonexistent magic on the stubborn door, Hermione was being terrified out of her wits. Though, of course, she didn't want Lucius Malfoy and the two other Deatheaters to get wind of that. Hermione wasn't sure if the whole lot of Deatheaters were really covert perverts with dissatisfying sex lives. Indeed, Lucius Malfoy had a certain penchant for women's bottoms, which he had demonstrated so well at the Quidditch World Cup before Hermione's fourth year with poor Mrs. Roberts. Currently Hermione found herself hanging upside-down, her feet a few inches from the ceiling. To prevent blood from rushing to her head, Hermione did occasional sit-up-like jerks.
"Ha!" Dolohov pointed at Hermione, doubling over in laughter. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a fire that barely singed the tips of Hermione's hair.
"You horrible people!" Hermione screeched. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Now, now, my little Mudblood," Lucius said amusedly, "I wouldn't waste my energy shouting if I were you." As it happened, Voldemort had finally stopped pacing the ground floor and come to inspect his Deatheaters at this time.
"Really," Voldemort said, surveying the scene calmly, "why do I have three of you guarding this girl and only Wormtail on Potter?" Crabbe blushed. Voldemort stared. Hermione dropped in a pile on the floor. "Do you have nothing better to do? Get out!" Lucius muttered an apology, and led Dolohov and Crabbe out of the room. Hermione didn't know whether she should be relieved or even more frightened. She tried to get up, massaging her sore back.
"Stay where you are," Voldemort said monotonously, raising his wand. Hermione blanched. This was it. The end. She tried to stand up, to escape, but all she managed to do was collapse on the floor. "Medicorpus." Hermione looked up at Voldemort strangely. That certainly wasn't Avada Kedavra, and she wasn't dying either. On the contrary, she felt her spine straighten out and warmth spreading all the way to her fingertips. Hermione stood up, rather shaken, and retrieved her wand from her pocket. No such luck. "You won't be needing that," Voldemort said abruptly. Hermione's wand flew into his outstretched hand. "I've been waiting for a long time to talk to you," Voldemort said, surveying Hermione up and down. "I've heard you have the best marks of your year. Impressive. Not many people know that I was the brightest of Hogwarts too, in my day." Hermione nodded mutely. Perhaps if she didn't say anything rude or incriminating, Voldemort would decide not to turn her into a heap of lifeless ash. "Of course, I've heard all of this from Lucius," said Voldemort calmly, "he knows quite a lot about your little school, Potter's plans - "
"I'm not going to tell you anything," Hermione interrupted, her gaze now raised to match Voldemort's.
"I didn't ask," Voldemort sneered. "You think I depend on Lucius Malfoy for all of my information? No, I know myself exactly what you're all planning. I know your dear old Headmaster's told Potter all about me." Hermione remained silent. "Or at least," Voldemort smiled slightly, "all that he knows." Hermione shivered involuntarily. Suddenly, she heard someone pounding on a door a little way down the corridor. "Ah," Voldemort said, a foreign smile spreading across his features, "Potter's trying to escape." Hermione started to run. Harry needed help. "Don't run," said Voldemort simply, "it's no use." Indeed, it was no use. The door closed before Hermione could reach it and the edges melded together with the surrounding wall.
"You… monster!" Hermione sputtered, having finally lost her temper. "What are you doing, keeping us in here? You're not allowed to! And if you're not going to kill us, then why don't you let us out!"
Not allowed to, thought Voldemort incredulously. Did this girl think he was even slightly concerned with abiding by wizarding law? In any case, pure intimidation seemed futile. (Partially, pondered Voldemort, because I look her age.) Ah well. It was time to try his old approach. Voldemort features changed immediately. In a moment, he changed from being a raving homicidal lunatic (in Hermione's eyes) to a young polite butler. The change scared Hermione. "I'm sorry, would you like some supper?" Voldemort asked innocently, as though nothing had happened.
He's gone senile, Hermione realized. Absolutely mad. "Yes, I would, thank you," said Hermione, composing herself and attempting to flatten her unruly hair. Better watch out for poison.
Voldemort smiled to himself as he blasted open the door and led Hermione downstairs. Good-hearted people were so easy to tamper with.
And as Hermione cautiously nibbled at a possibly toxic array of foods with her best friend's arch nemesis, and while Harry shouted about in his makeshift prison cell, other members of the Order and Hogwarts faculty were trying to locate just where they had gone.
"They're still alive," Flitwick said half-heartedly, as a meeting commenced in McGonagall's office.
"Yes, but where?" McGonagall said, pursing her lips. "They could be anywhere."
"Ron's said that he just saw them disappear. Like they Apparated," said Mr. Weasley.
"Is it possible," Kingsley Shacklebolt said, "they Apparated along with Voldemort? Back to his headquarters?"
"I wasn't aware that Voldemort had any headquarters," McGonagall said.
"Sure would be useful," Mundungus Fletcher interrupted, "if, you know, we 'ad someone on the other side."
McGonagall faltered. "Has anyone contacted Severus?"
"No," Moody said gruffly, "but we damn should."
"Well he made it pretty clear which side he was on, didn't he?" Mr. Weasley said.
"I wouldn't put it to Dumbledore," Moody said, bulldozing on, "to come up with some elaborate plan. We don't know all the facts!"
"Yeah," said Hagrid, accidentally sitting on Professor Flitwick, "Mad-Eye's right. Dumbledore 'as too great, too great ter' be finished off by some greasy-haired - "
"Thank you, Hagrid," McGonagall said briskly. "Very well, we need someone to act as an envoy to Snape, apologize and make amends."
"'Pologize?" Hagrid roared. "Don' apologize ter' him!"
"Snape may be holding much valuable information. It would be in our best interest to bring him back as soon as possible," said McGonagall, fixing everyone in the room with a beady glare.
"I'll go," Lupin said, raising his hand half-heartedly.
"Oh, Remus," Mrs. Weasley said, "don't be ridiculous, Severus hates you."
"Be that as it may," continued Lupin wearily. "I believe those personal problems need some clearing up as well."
