The Darkest of Wishes
Chapter 12
Speak No Evil
Hermione opened her eyes, feeling very awake and alert. Her ears perked up ever-so-slightly, especially when she realized that she was alone. Hermione couldn't believe that Pansy hadn't wanted to annoy the hell out of her by waking her up. It just didn't seem right, especially with the almost deafening silence.
But, it made Hermione smile. It was nice to be alone at the moment.
Hermione stretched her muscles, stood up, then noticed the paper that Draco had given her was placed neatly on the bedside table. Hermione's jaw dropped as she read the headline...
DAILY PROPHET EXCLUSIVE
Escape of Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy
The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has alerted the Muggle Prime Minister about the escapee. Fudge also warns all of the magical community to be on the lookout for this dangerous killer and well-known Muggle-baiter.
Hermione couldn't read anymore. The paper slowly slipped from her hands, the empty cell that she had seen Lucius Malfoy in only a few weeks ago, was vacant. The door open on its hinges, swinging freely.
Letting out a ragged breath, Hermione bent down to skim over the article. There was something about how none of the Dementors had seen Malfoy sneak out. Hermione almost laughed out loud, but didn't. Then the article started to go on about how the Dementors could possibly be some of You-Know-Who's henchmen.
That was why Draco had been thanking her last night before she had gone to bed. Hermione closed her eyes and rubbed her temples; she had helped in Lucius Malfoy's escape.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, so that she could calm herself down. Her mouth opened, but no sound escaped her lips. Hermione then tried to clear her throat. Again, there was no sound. Thinking she had really gone deaf, she shook the newspaper in her hand, and the rustling of the paper calmed her nerves.
Then Hermione figured that all of the excitement and nerves had given her some sort of laryngitis.
x x x x x
Feeling like complete crap, Hermione finally got out of bed and headed downstairs. When she reached the bottom step, she noticed that nobody was there to greet her. This was very uncommon, considering that either Mother Delilah or Albert was usually right there when she had woken up each morning. Hermione took in a deep breath and placed her hand on her neck. She tried to whisper, but, not surprisingly, she was silent.
Hermione placed a hand on her hip and then went into the kitchen. There, as plain as the nose on her face, was a large note sitting on the table.
My dearest Hermione,
I am so sorry that you must awaken with no one around you. You just looked so peaceful lying asleep in your bed, that I could not bring myself to wake you. The Parkinsons asked to see their darling Pansy. They just Floo'd in very unexpectedly at 5 o'clock this morning. Albert nearly had a heart attack and he Apparated - like a fool - to St. Mungo's this morning. Pity he didn't really have a heart attack, his cleaning is going to hell and back, dear. I just wish he'd go ahead and die, already. It would make things much easier.
Anyway, darling, Narcissa, Bella, and I have gone shopping in Diagon Alley. The Dolohov's left right after breakfast and Draco went home to see his father, as I'm sure you know already. He is quite a catch, dear. I do hope you will continue to see him. And what a lovely family... it's very fortunate that you are adopted. After all, what would people say about cousins marrying cousins! Not that it is unacceptable, I myself had to marry a long-distance cousin. Quite horrid to think of marrying anyone without a decent family heritage, wouldn't you agree dear?
Well, I am writing more than my old hands can handle. If you need anything, my love, Kreacher will assist you.
All of my love,
Mother
PS. Pansy said she'd see you back at school. She, too, did not want to wake you. Quite a wonderful girl.
Hermione rolled her eyes; she didn't understand how Mother Delilah could live with herself. She shrugged and put the note in the trash. Then it dawned on her, the plan to annoy Pansy would have to be put on the back burner until next time.
Hermione pulled a chair towards her and sat down. She put her face in her palms and shook her head.
Next time? As if I really want to return here... Hermione scorned her thoughts.
Hermione took a few moments, then made some breakfast. She really didn't want Kreacher to have to do anything for her. She was perfectly capable with two hands and a wand.
x x x x x
Hermione didn't think that she could be bored in Grimmauld Place, but she was. Completely and utterly bored. And without her own voice to accompany her, she felt very lonely.
Kreacher had found her while she had been looking at the tapestry again. He had asked her to chop his head off, because he had not cooked her breakfast. Since Hermione couldn't speak she had pointed to the upstairs and made a few movements to ask him to clean. She hadn't wanted to ask him to do such menial labor, but she didn't want him to follow her around all day. Of every being in the house, she knew that Kreacher kept a good eye on things. He would probably be the first one to realize that she had no idea where the Black's actually kept their Christmas decorations. And since Hermione had decided that to keep herself occupied she was going to take down the decorations, she didn't need Kreacher over her shoulder.
Hermione opened the door to Mother Delilah's room. There were a few decorations, but Hermione was drawn towards her desk. A snowglobe with a witch was acting as a paperweight and a Father Christmas hat was skewed over a vial filled with a silvery powder that Hermione wasn't too keen to touch.
Picking up the snowglobe, Hermione watched as the witch (wearing a red Christmas outfit) cackled and sped around a miniature copy of Big Ben. Then, Hermione noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A sliver of paper was sticking out of one of the many drawers in an odd fashion. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she opened the drawer and pulled out a large stack of papers.
The yellowed papers seemed like they were asking her to look, and Hermione desperately wanted to oblige them. With a quick look over her shoulder to make sure that Kreacher wasn't spying on her, she started to read the dust-laden papers.
Magical Child Adoption Agency
Hermione Jane Granger
Hermione studied the paper's heading. She skimmed through the things she already knew about herself. Birth date, parentage (which Hermione noticed that there was no sign whatsoever that stated that she was Muggleborn to dentists), and... Hermione stared, her mouth open in shock.
If she could scream, she would have. She had been adopted when she was two by a Mrs. Delilah V. Q. Black. But, that was not what was bothering her. Mother Delilah had adopted her as a single parent. But, there was a witness who had been there during the "proceedings." His hard-etched writing looked out of place on the neat files...
Lord Voldemort
Hermione didn't know what to do. He had been there when she had been adopted. He had said something about how he knew she was Muggleborn... and yet he asked one of the most prominent Pureblood wizard families to adopt her. Hermione couldn't believe her eyes and she definitely had no idea about Voldemort's train of thought on the entire thing either.
Not wanting to look at the paper anymore, she hurriedly stuffed all of the papers back in the rightful drawer. She quickly left the room, the snowglobe still in her hand. Hermione had no idea where she needed to put it, but she didn't feel like going back inside Mother Delilah's room.
Hermione opened the first door she came to and realized that when she had opened it, that it wasn't the room she had expected. But, it suited her purpose.
There was a large cabinet in the corner of the room. As soon as she opened the door, an elderly hand appeared from the inky darkness. To Hermione it seemed like time stood still as Professor McGonagall seemed to slither her way out of the cabinet. McGonagall looked at Hermione and shook her head in disgust. McGonagall fumbled in her robes and pulled out a piece of parchment with a large red T on the paper.
Hermione tried to gasp, but couldn't. She was horrified! Troll! Hermione had earned a grade of T on her Transfiguration essay that she had given to McGonagall the day before Christmas holiday...
Then it hit her, this was a Boggart. Hermione squinted her eyes at the slowly approaching McGonagall (who seemed to be growing taller and even more fierce) and reached for her wand. She tried the incantation she had learned in her third year. No words came from her mouth.
Hermione panicked.
McGonagall gave her a cold smile and then slowly morphed into a pale figure with red eyes and slits for a nose. Voldemort was now staring down at her.
Huge tears leaked from Hermione's eyes. She didn't know what to do. She thought hard on the incantation again... Riddikulus!
Nothing happened.
Voldemort raised his own wand and a green light emitted from the tip of his wand. Before Hermione could even attempt to defend herself the green bolt had hit her, throwing her into the wall. For a fleeting moment, Hermione thought that she was dead, but then she realized that the green thing had not been a spell... it was a something. Better yet, a someone.
Hermione looked up into the bespectacled face of Harry Potter. His green skin was pulled back against the bones on his face and some of the skin seemed to be falling off as he stared down at Hermione. Where his eyes should have been, there were deep gaping holes. His fingers were mostly bone, with skin and muscle hanging off the bone. He was reaching for her and Hermione tried to cry out, but her hollow scream seemed to give the zombie a look of triumph on his sunken face. She tried to move away, but his grip was firm and she could feel him bruising her as he lifted her off the floor. What Hermione could only describe as the living dead version of Harry, flung her across the room. She heard an echo of a laugh and looked up to see him crossing the room...
Hermione held up her bruised arm and tried again, Riddikulus! Riddikulus! Riddikulus! Then, right when Harry was bending over, his skull on inches away from hers, she heard a tiny moan of terror escape her lips.
"RIDDIKULUS!"
Hermione could barely believe that she had just uttered the spell that she had been desperately trying to say for the past couple of minutes. Harry backed away slowly, then went towards Hermione again. But before he reached her, she had flicked her wand at him again, and he had turned into a smaller, and perhaps greener version, with tinkling bells on his shoes and some candy canes in his hands.
Hermione watched as a miniature green Harry, dressed as an elf, hurriedly threw itself back into the cabinet.
x x x chapter end x x x
Author's Note: As soon as I came up with this idea for DoW, I thought that I would have a very tough time with some bits of the story. For example: this chapter. An entire chapter with no dialogue (and very few actual thoughts), at a time when I needed to fill in the reader about some important things. Heh.
Also, this is a very strange concept for me, to write something with only one phrase of dialogue, which comes at the very end. Especially since I use dialogue (I think) more than the average author does. Maybe it's just me, but, I rely rather heavily on dialogue to help move my stories along. So... I hope everyone enjoyed a bit of a change... something different... something new. :) And I'm sorry about the shortness of this chapter. I'm not very good at the non-dialogue-ness. Heh. New word.
Mother Black's entire name is: Delilah Valerie Qayser (pronounced Kay-suhr) Black. Just in case you wanted to know. And no her maiden name is not Qayser. She didn't want anyone to know what her maiden name was - so she dropped it entirely. But I can exclusively reveal that it is Saguinier. It's French and, no, this has nothing to do with the story, it's just some side information that I had no idea where to bring into the story, so it goes here!
Thanks to Beta Bella! You rock mah world.
Coming Soon : Chapter 13
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