A/N: I think Saturday is my new official update day. For all of you who hated the cliff-hanger in the last two chapters, all I can say is… don't hate me too much after this one! This is the longest chapter yet, so prepare yourselves accordingly (grin).
((edited for discrepancies))
Chapter 24:
"I saw him," Harry repeated stubbornly. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Hermione. "He could have killed you! We never should have come here; we should have let his old friends take care of him."
There was slick of anger on the surface of her roiling emotions, but mostly she was scared. Lucius's pulse thrummed steadily under her fingers and his chest rose and fell, but otherwise, he lay as still and silent as a stone. Hermione struggled to pull him into a seated position, but he was so heavy, a dead weight. Not dead. She gripped her wand and cast a quiet Ennervate, which caused his breath and heart to quicken. Her own breath caught, but nothing came of it. His eyelids didn't even flutter.
"We have to get him to St. Mungo's," she said without bothering to respond to Harry's accusations.
Harry was staring incredulously at Lucius, but now he gaped at her. "You can't be serious. Didn't you hear me? I-"
Without warning, Hermione brandished her wand and pointed it at her friend. "Silencio!" she cried. Harry's mouth worked furiously, but no sound came out. He looked as she surprised as she felt at her audacity.
"Listen to me. There was a Death Eater which you can't see from here trying to kill me. There were two, actually, and if Lucius had not stopped one of them, they might've been the ones to kill me. Now Lucius is hurt, and we have to get help for him. Whatever else he's done, Harry – and I know that much of it is evil – he has saved my life, not just now but several times." She paused and sighed. "Look at it this way; if he's alive, he can go to trial for his crimes. Now, are you going to be reasonable?"
He glared at her but finally nodded. "Good," she said. "Finite incantatem."
"Fine, we'll get someone to take him to St. Mungo's." Harry stood on his toes and surveyed the wrecked garden. "Here, Remus is heading this way."
Hermione wanted to argue that she should take Lucius to St. Mungo's, but Remus was standing over her and talking before she had the chance. He spoke in great heaving gasps, in such evident hurry, unlike his customary serenity.
"You have to go," he panted. "Moody was able… was questioning… Alecto Carrow… a Death Eater… she died soon afterwards, possibly… possibly self-inflicted…" He stopped to catch his breath and only then appeared to notice Lucius unconscious in Hermione's arms. With a curious expression, he looked from Harry to Hermione.
"He's fine," Harry said sullenly and a little sheepishly. "Just Stunned. Ennervate should have worked."
"Ah. I'll look after him, make sure someone tends to him, but you two have to go. I told Ron to find Moody and wait for you. He found something you'll want to hear."
Hermione brushed Lucius's soft hair from his forehead and gazed at the figure he presented in repose. He somehow managed to retain some of his arrogance when he was Stunned, as if he had decided to lay down here and take a short nap on his own volition, thank you very much. He should look surprised, she thought idly.
"I won't leave him until I know he's safe," she replied. She wouldn't be ripped away from him again, not knowing whether he was alive or not, wondering for years and almost giving up on seeing him. No more.
"Didn't you hear him," Harry began incredulously, but Remus cut him off with a gesture.
He knelt beside Hermione and lay a hand on her shoulder. "I know what you're afraid of," he whispered. "I'll keep an eye on him until you return. No one's going to spirit him away."
She tore her eyes from Lucius's face to look up at her friend. He had always been so kind to her, quietly supportive and proud of her. It was an awkward position, but she turned anyway and threw her arms around Lupin's neck.
"Thank you," she answered in that same whisper. She sniffled and blinked her eyes rapidly as she lowered Lucius gently back to the ground. Remus took her place at his side and began murmuring something while waving his wand slowly over the unconscious figure.
"I'm ready," she said and strode over to where she had last seen Mad-Eye, without waiting for Harry's response. A few moments later, she saw Ron hurrying toward them. When he saw them, his worried expression broke into a grin and he started running.
"Hermione!" he cried happily and caught her in a tight embrace. She was a little surprised by his demonstrative affection, but it was a pleasant sort of surprise. Normally, Ron was one to shuffle and stare at his shoes and mutter something about being glad they were still alive. And blush, of course.
"Oof, it's good to see you too," she said, voice muffled by his shoulder. "I can't breathe."
He released her quickly, and sure enough, a scarlet flush was creeping into his cheeks. He turned to Harry and they danced around for a moment, trying to decide what male display of affection was appropriate for the occasion, gave up, and embraced.
"'s good to see you, mate."
"Good to see you too."
When they broke apart, both of them were staring at their shoes. Hermione sighed, but a smile twitched at her lips. Boys. "What did Moody say? Where is he?"
Ron turned around to peer into the darkness and then shrugged. "I dunno. McGonagall whispered something to him, and he said he had to go. He told me to tell you that Alecto said… she's a Death Eater, or she was. Ugly, too. It was weird… one minute Moody was dragging a confession out of her, and the next she just… slumped over.
"But before that, she said that You… that Voldemort," he said the name with obvious pride, "was finally coming out of hiding. He's waiting for… well, for you, Harry. He's waiting at the beginning."
Harry did not looked at all shocked by this intelligence. He just looked determined, like he always did, and maybe a little grim. "He's waiting for me, did you say? Then I'll have to go meet him." He glanced from Ron to Hermione and back. "I have to go alone. I think I have to."
Hermione shook her head. "You are not going alone, Harry. Strictly speaking, you should not go at all… this way, he gets to choose the terrain and booby trap the place. But if you're going to be stubborn, we're coming with you. Right, Ron?"
To his credit, Ron did not hesitate a moment before replying with a vigorous nod. "She's right, Harry. It's always been the three of us, hey? The prophecy only mentions you, but it doesn't say we can't tag along."
"We're not taking no for answer," Hermione said and, though she was still mad at Harry for attacking Lucius, she linked her arm through his and began dragging him back toward the castle. "Now, we're going to get some supplies before we leave, and that's that."
Harry did not bother to argue further, though she could see him gather his courage every so often to try. Ron kept him mostly distracted by recounting his role in the recent attack blow-by-blow, dramatic enough in the telling to rival professional Quidditch commentators.
When they reached the door, Tingy appeared around a corner to joyously greet Hermione with many effusive cries of "Mistress!" which evidently made Ron and Harry uncomfortable.
"Right," Harry said in the midst of the house-elf's verbal profusion, "what do we need here?"
Hermione had already thought of this. "Harry, do you know what he meant by 'the beginning'?"
He nodded. "I think so. I saw it in a memory, the orphanage where he grew up. I used to think he had hidden one of his Horcruxes there, but there's only one left, and that one travels with him." He meant Nagini, of course, Voldemort's pet. "He hid something everywhere that was important in his life, and the orphanage is the only place left where I haven't… come across him in some form."
The serpent. Harry's mention of what they all believed to be the final Horcrux, Voldemort's final stake in immortality, made up Hermione's mind. She had had time, a long time, to speculate on this final confrontation and had chosen the role she would play. Not only had she chosen that role, but she had… if not accepted the consequences, at least come to term with them. She would have liked right now to run back outside, to whisper a few words into Lucius's ear, but doing so would only arouse suspicion. If Ron or Harry got a whiff of her plans, they would forbid her from going through with it, and that could be fatal. They would need all of their energy and concentration to defeat Voldemort, not to worry about her or Nagini.
Hermione asked the house elf to lead them to wherever the most powerful potions were. She led the trio down stone staircases, down and down. The stairs became narrow and worn, and soon all three humans were peering through the gloom with the aid of light from their wands. Finally they came to a halt in a great vault which branched off into several shadowy niches. Before them loomed a tall door carved in stone and banded with dark metal. Beside her, Harry stiffened and Ron shivered. They had seen enough malignant old dungeons in their time to know what one looked and felt like.
"Does Mistress require anything else?" Tingy inquired.
Hermione opened her mouth to dismiss the elf but changed her mind. "Could you wait here for a bit?" She stepped forward tentatively and touched the door. It fizzed when she did so but did not seem… unfriendly. Another ward? "How do I get inside?"
"Mistress must turn the doorknob," Tingy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Come to think of it, it was fairly obvious.
She reached for the ordinary-looking knob and heard Ron and Harry draw deep breaths behind her. Slowly, she touched the knob and then wrapped her hand around it. It turned obligingly, but when she tried to push it, the door would not yield. She turned her attention back to Tingy.
"What's wrong? Why can't I open it?"
Tingy fidgeted and plucked at her dishrag. "Mistress… must be a pureblood. A Malfoy can turn the knob, but only a pureblood can open it."
"Great," she muttered. "Leave it to the Malfoys to make things so difficult." She chewed her lip for a moment, considering the door, and then grinned. Maybe this would not be so difficult after all.
"Ron," she said, "you're a pureblood. Come here."
The red-headed boy… young man approached slowly, eyeing the door as if it might come alive and bite him at any moment. "You've got to be kidding, Hermione. I don't think the great big Malfoy door would open for me. Malfoys hate Weasleys, and the feeling's mutual."
She rolled her eyes. "I doubt Verdan and Melusine Malfoy decided to make an exception in the ward for ginger 'blood traitors'. It can't hurt to try." She paused and looked at Tingy. "Can it?"
Tingy shook her head. "Mistress has led her friends safely past the most dangerous spells."
"Thank you," she replied. She laid her hand on the knob again and turned and then motioned for Ron to push the door. He did so and winced a little when the door swung slowly under his hand, obviously expecting something unpleasant to come flying out at him from the darkness.
Hermione brightened the light radiating from her wand and stared at the room. Shelves upon shelves lined a cylindrical room that must have reached to the very top of the castle.
"Blimey," Ron breathed. "What do you suppose Snape would give to see this place?"
"Malfoy and Snape are old friends," Harry said sourly. "I bet this is his favourite place to spend his holidays."
Hermione shushed them and asked Tingy if there were a English catalogue of the room's contents. Tingy replied that there was and disappeared to fetch it. Hermione began examining the vials and bottles at eye-level, mostly labelled in archaic English, French, or a language she did not understand but assumed to be Breton. It looked like a kind of Gaelic, at any rate. Tingy returned with a pop and a great sheaf of parchment too big for Hermione to hold and still retain her wand. She sat on the floor, surprisingly free of dust, and began leafing through it.
She recognised a good deal of what she saw and wished she had more time to investigate the contents of this room. Some of these were supposed to be nearly impossible to make or gather, and she thought she saw at least one concoction that was only rumoured to exist outside dark arts books. But she did not even have time to read leisurely through the catalogue and instead magically flipped through the pages until she found was she was looking for.
"I've got it," she announced. "Why don't you two ask Tingy to take you to the kitchen while I gather what I need? It won't take long, and you won't have to stand around here doing nothing."
Harry looked at her suspiciously, and she hoped he was not going to ask why she was sending them away. She buried her head in the parchment and began thumbing through it at random, praying he would take the hint and leave her alone. Finally, he relented and did as Hermione asked. Ron complained about walking all that way again when Voldemort was out there and waiting for them. Their voices trailed off, leaving Hermione to wonder if there were limits to Apparating from room to room. In any case, though, none of them knew what the kitchen looked like, and as for Voldemort… well, he had hidden himself for over a year now and could afford to wait on them for a change.
When she was sure they could not hear her and would not run back down the stairs in a sudden change of heart, she stood and Summoned two vials of liquid, two empty vials, and two corks. The pearly white potion she divided into three parts. Phoenix tears worked most effectively when fresh, but she hoped that they would be strong enough for her and for whatever injuries Harry and Ron might incur. Strong enough to heal them or at least to keep them alive until… well, she worry about that later.
She poured most the liquid into the two empty vials, saving only a little for herself. She had no illusions about martyring herself; she simply knew what she had to face and could not begin to imagine what Voldemort might throw at Harry and Ron. An intelligent, magical cobra containing a little piece of a dark lord's soul was one thing… the Dark Lord himself was something very different. For example, she knew how she was going to kill the serpent. She peered into the other vial, in which sloshed a viscous black fluid. Unlike phoenix tears, basilisk venom was supposed to grow more potent as it aged, like good liquor. Inspiration struck, and she Summoned another vial, this one gleaming gold in the dim light.
She secreted the vials around her person, closed the door behind her, and called Tingy. Still pondering the question of Apparition and growing more impatient to meet Voldemort now that she was armed, she asked if the elf could bring her directly to her friends. Tingy could, of course, it was just that no one had asked her. Hermione repressed a sigh and held the little creature's hand for a Side Along Apparition.
She found herself in a room so bright after the dark dungeon that her eyes watered for a good minute before they adjusted. Harry and Ron were shovelling food in their mouths as if the world supply was set to run out any minute. Well, after the rigours of battling Death Eaters, they needed all the energy they could get. They also needed all the luck they could get, which was why she had Summoned that third vial at the last minute. She pulled it from an inner pocket in her robes with a flourish.
"Before you two make yourselves sick," she said, "let's finish this off." She shrugged. "It couldn't hurt."
"Hermione," Ron cried, "you're brilliant!"
As she cut a thick slice of bread and topped it with a creamy white cheese, Ron and Harry each took a mouthful of the potion. Ron passed it to her, and she finished it off. When she swallowed and looked around, she saw that the other two were wearing manic grins. They looked very silly, she thought until she realised that she was doing the same thing. Her plan for destroying Voldemort's final Horcrux was simple, true, but as Ron had just said, she was brilliant. Fantastic. She would be able to keep Nagini away from Harry and Ron long enough for them to… to… Her confidence stumbled here a bit, but she was certain they had thought as much about this as she had and doubtless had a cunning plan of their own. At least, Harry was sure to have imagined this moment over and over again. And they were feeling lucky.
"I also have these for you," she announced as she withdrew two vials of phoenix tears from her robes. "Don't use them unless it's absolutely necessary… they're phoenix tears, but they aren't fresh." She smiled. "But I'm sure you'll do fine. Well, shall we be off?" Part of her knew that she should be quite a bit more sombre in this moment, facing what might be her doom and the doom of her friends and perhaps the entire wizarding world, but another part of her asserted stubbornly that all that doom and gloom would not do her or any of them any good whatsoever.
They ambled out the front door after Tingy and breathed in the cool night air. The gardens were empty of people again, though uneven hedges and trampled bushes showed that all had not been so peaceful here recently. Hermione saw the spot where Lucius had lain and felt some of her exhilaration ebb. It would have been nice to see him again, to talk to him once more before she left.
"When I went there," Harry was saying, "we rode on brooms. Hermione, do you think you can follow us?"
Normally, she would have paled at this request, but the felix felicis overrode her objections. "Sure. Just don't try anything fancy."
They each Summoned a broom, and Hermione realised with no little amusement that they were borrowing Draco's old Quidditch brooms. Hers was a Firebolt from several years ago, outdated as these things went but still faster than anything she had ever ridden. It jumped obediently into her hand, and she was pleasantly surprised to note how smoothly it carried her when she pushed off the ground. This was going to be fun, she told herself
firmly.
Not even a mouthful of felix could make her really comfortable on a broom, but she managed to stay on and almost enjoy herself, flitting through the wisps of cloud. Her eyes remained fixed on Harry's broom in front of her, forbidden from wandering to see just how tiny the houses below were. She lost track of the time as they soared and her fingers grew chilly clamped around the graceful wood handle.
Finally they landed, Hermione with a solid bump. She had been so concentrated on keeping her eyes fastened on Harry that she had not noticed until the began their slow spiral down that they were in London. This was not good, she thought through the confident glow of the potion. For some reason, she had pictured an orphanage in the middle of nowhere, where they could battle Voldemort in peace. But it was to be expected that Voldemort would manage to place as many people as possible in danger if he was to be so, especially if they were Muggles. Idly, she rearranged the vials and her wand so the phoenix tears and her wand rested in her right pocket and the venom in her left.
It was disconcerting to hear the usual car honks and sirens of a London night in this deserted place. They passed through a rusted iron gate, its hinges creaking a protest after laying unused for so long, probably for decades. Once inside the gate, they set down their brooms by silent accord and took one another's hands, Hermione between the two boys. There was nothing to be said just now. Nothing existed for them but the orphanage before them and the pressure of warm hands.
The sere courtyard seemed to stretch out before them, farther and farther until the square building ahead of them was reduced to a speck on the horizon. "It's a trick," Harry muttered as silence descended on them.
"A cheap parlour trick," Hermione agreed. They took one step, then another into the desert. They did not appear to come any closer to the building which was their destination, but they did not falter. What else could they do but continue? Ron and Harry each had their wands out in their free hands, but Hermione was sure that they would not need them just yet. After all, Voldemort had Nagini and needed no other guard.
Finally their feet bumped into something, and the illusion melted around them. They had reached the steps that led to the front door. As soon as their feet touched the top of the bottom step, Hermione heard a low hiss coming from around the side of the building. Their hands broke apart, and each trained a wand toward the direction of the noise. Now Hermione knew what she needed to do.
"You two go on ahead," she said in the most casual tone she could muster. "I'll deal with Voldemort's worm."
"Hermione, we have to stay together," Ron declared.
"You were the one who said I couldn't go alone," Harry added. "We do this together or we don't do it at all."
She sighed and adopted what she knew to be her most annoying, patronising tone of voice. "It's always been like this. Don't argue, you know I'm right. We go together, but we're individual people, and we have different strengths. I know what I'm doing. I've been planning this for a long time. You two are going to have enough trouble with Voldemort as is… this way you'll be at your maximum strength, and you won't have to worry about a snake bothering you." It felt right what she was saying. If she did not already know it, the felix told her she was doing the right thing.
Ron and Harry exchanged a long, expressive glance, and she knew that they were feeling the same thing she did. "All right," Ron said. "I guess you know what you're doing." He hesitated and then reached out to hug her again.
Then Harry hugged her and asked in a whisper if she forgave him. It was too soon for that, but she couldn't tell him that, not now. She knew it, and the felix confirmed it. She lied and told him that of course she did. There would be time for forgiveness later. The three of them stared at each other.
"I love you, Hermione," Harry said suddenly. "I mean, not… well, you know," he finished lamely.
"Love you too, Hermione," Ron echoed. He shuffled and stared at his shoes.
She smiled at the pair of them. "I love you too, both of you. Now go."
They mounted the stairs, and Hermione left around the corner, hands stuck in her pockets and gripping the contents. She heard them open the door and walk inside. And then her attention was caught by the giant snake rearing up before her, and she could think of nothing else. Its hood was raised, and it undulated softly as it rose, to her height and then taller, towering over her. She brought her hands out of her pockets and trained her wand on the creature.
It hissed at her and spoke in her mind. Greetings, Mudblood. I do not see your little friends with you… have you decided to divide and conquer? Very amusing. And very good of you, to sacrifice your life so that the other two might have a few extra moments of life.
The giant serpent was not a basilisk, to kill her with its mere gaze, but she knew better than to look into its eyes. Instead, she focused on its hood just to the side of its great head. "You're wrong," she said aloud. "I'm not going to die here. Neither will Ron or Harry." A slow grin spread across her face. "But I'm afraid I can't say the same for you or your master."
The creature hissed angrily. Insolent girl! You would mock the Dark Lord and his greatest servant? Know who I am! I am my Master's soul! He sees through my eyes and kills with my fangs. He will kill you, girl, and then He will kill your friends.
She felt the snake's malevolence probe into her mind and threw up a hastily mental shield. She had not gone through the extensive Auror training that Ron and Harry had undergone, but she had taken it upon herself to learn some of the advanced magical combat techniques. And she had excelled in Occlumency, though Legilimency remained out of her grasp. Nagini was no ordinary Legilimens, though, and she just barely managed to hold onto her block. Unfortunately, that meant she could not fire any spells at the snake while she concentrated on her secrets.
It would not do for the creature, and through it Voldemort, to realise that she was very happy to hear what it had just said. So it was the final Horcrux. That meant that when she killed it, Voldemort would be mortal. Insane and powerful and knowledgeable beyond any living wizard… but mortal. She was so intent on guarding her sudden elation from the creature that it was able to penetrate other areas of her mind, though. She did not even realise that it had intruded until it spoke, and then it was too late.
So, my Master's suspicions proved correct. Lucius Malfoy betrayed his name, his family, his blood, and his life for a nobody, a filthy nothing with mud running through her veins. Rest assured, he will pay for his betrayal. He will beg for death, but my Master will keep him alive as an example to those who would commit his disgusting treason. My master only regrets that He will not be able to kill you before his eyes.
Her shock at the snake's words were so great that she forgot not to look in her eyes. It did not kill her, but it might as well have. Something like a fist closed over her mind, slammed its control over her like a cage slamming shut. So the felix had run out, then. Well, it has lasted her a good ways. Her last coherent thought was to clear her mind except for the things in her hand. Left, then right. Left, then right. That was all she had to remember.
You disappoint me. You were supposed to be so very clever, clever enough to make Malfoy forget about the mud in your veins. But here you are, trapped like a tasty little mouse. Now we end this farce, and I shall share the remains of your friends with my Master. Drop the wand.
"No," she muttered, her speech slurred. "Won't." She had also trained to resist the Imperius curse, and this was a little like it.
You're right. Break it.
"No."
BREAK IT
The fist squeezed until her vision went red, and she tasted blood. "Confringo," she slurred and felt the wand and vial shatter. She opened her hand and gazed blankly at the bits of wood and glass. When she wiped her hand on her robe, she felt glass cut her hand and blood seep out. There was another sensation, but she could not think about that.
Now, come here.
Left, then right. But the right was destroyed. She clenched her left hand as hard as she could.
What's this? Another trick? You should not be able to retain any control at all right now… very intriguing. You're more skilled than you seem. Perhaps you would have made a respectable Death Eater after all, but we shall never know. Now, DROP IT.
Again, she refused, and again, the snake countered by shouting in her brain. This time she was able to resist a little longer… but only a little longer. When she dropped the vial, she threw it down and sobbed. There was a little tinkle of glass as it shattered on the bare rock. Then there was nothing left… she would die here and now, and she would die in vain.
Come.
And although she knew it was hopeless, she stood her ground. She was not going to walk willingly to her death. Nagini could come get her if it wanted her so badly. Hermione was no one's fast food.
"Won't."
COME!
"Can't make me. Not… puppet." Her head was being crushed in that iron fist, crushed to a mushy red pulp, crushed, and she was dead. "Dead," she mumbled. "Ow."
YOU WILL COME TO ME! YOU WILL ACKNOWLEDGE ME BEFORE YOU DIE!
"Won't." Her left foot rose slowly, and she dropped her head to glare at it. "No." It hung in mid-air. She tried to place it back beside her right foot, but Nagini was trying to draw it forward. For a second, they had equal control, and then Hermione fell. The glass on the ground cut her knee, and she smiled when she felt wetness on her skin. Now something else was creeping through her veins, not mud but something black and insidious.
She stood again but could not support her weight for long. She allowed the force of Nagini's dark will to drag her the few feet to where the cobra waited impatiently. Already half dead with exhaustion and the blackness that ran through her veins, she stared into those black, unknowable eyes and waited. Great sinuous coils wrapped around her ankles, her legs, her thighs.
Acknowledge me! My master is the greatest wizard ever to have lived, and even as you die, he will taste and know!
"Won't," she mumbled. "Dub…dore." Her head slumped forward, and Nagini hissed again, enraged. She could say no more. Fangs like daggers pierced her skin, and then Nagini tasted. And knew. And died there beside Hermione, who used the last of her strength to clutch the damp spot on the right side of her robes.
