Author's Note: If you like to listen to music while reading, this chapter is best with some light-hearted pop music. And now, please enjoy,
Chapter 26 - Just One More Favour
Hermione had a sneaking suspicion - an intuition, a hunch one might say - that something very bad was going to occur in the upcoming legilimency lesson. It wasn't because she had been told in no uncertain terms to leave her rooster in the dormitories, or because of the icy boot on Barty's mahogany desk, or even because of the rattling of the pipes that ran along the ceiling. No it was because of the blonde man who was gagged, blindfolded, and tied onto a chair in the middle of the room.
"Ahh Hermione," said Barty, putting the finishing touches on a letter with a final flourish of his quill. He rolled up the parchment, sealed it with wax, and gave it to an owl perched on an open window. "So good to see you. I'd like to introduce you to a man you've met before. Gilderoy Lockhart. While it may seem foolish to keep the man I'm impersonating close by, I've found it a wise precaution in the past. He's had a miserable time of it, I'm afraid. Don't feel bad for him, all those warnings Rita Skeeter gave you about him are entirely accurate. He's tortured and erased the memories of many brave witches and wizards, to steal credit for their achievements and sustain himself on misplaced glory. It is admirable, I suppose, that a man of his middling talents achieved such astonishing success, but he was too weak for his tale to end any other way." Barty sat in his carved oak chair. "Or perhaps not. He is of no use to me anymore."
Barty pointed to the boot on his desk. "This is a portkey to Siberia. It will expire in ten minutes. Gilderoy was here in the room, hidden away, when you murdered Rita Skeeter. The only witness besides the two of us. The Dark Lord is the only other I have told about the events which transpired after The Winter Dueling Tournament. And as I'm sure you're aware, nobody will trust the testimony of The Dark Lord. Gilderoy Lockhart's fate is entirely up to you. Will you follow the ethics you've been taught by society, let him go, risk azkaban on his good nature and ability to keep a secret? Or will you act in your own self-interests, silence him forever and ensure your freedom? There will be no coercion this time… Not from me of course… And not from Dear Harry, Sweet Ron, nor Mum and Dad. Nobody will be watching. Nobody will be judging. Nobody will know. The choice is yours entirely, Hermione Granger.
"I expect he'll meet the same end as dear Rita. Or perhaps you really were tricked by my acting. I am a good actor, good enough to fool my father, and even Albus Dumbledore… Perhaps you really were fooled… Or perhaps you were simply scared and frightened. However, I can't help but wonder… If I hadn't fooled you, you'd have been in the room with a fully fledged death eater, and you'd have followed my instructions all the same. If you'd failed to take care of Rita Skeeter I'd have disposed of you… As I've shared with The Dark Lord, I suspect you knew that, but then why? Why follow along so eagerly, just what is it you're planning? I just needed more time, you can be careless, and with a few more…"
Hermione said nothing as Barty continued to ramble. It was an intriguing proposition. Had she truly been fooled by Barty's acting, had he truly tricked her into murdering Rita Skeeter? Likely. Because even though it didn't seem at all like her to be so careless, she couldn't fathom how her current course would seem prudent to Past Hermione. It really did seem, from all possible perspectives, that she was err… What was the phrase? Oh yes, she was completely fucked. On the other hand, she knew someone had been tampering with her memory. She suspected it was the dastardly work of her age-old arch-enemy Past Hermione, but perhaps that was merely her own hope. Current Hermione was well aware of the rationalizations she told herself to ease the pain of Past Hermione's abuse, and the knowledge that she was likely to repeat the pattern of àbuse to the saintly Future Hermione, who could always be counted on to deal with what was simply too much for Current Hermione. Past transgressions made it seem likely that Past Hermione had simply decided that it would be too troublesome to think of the consequences and trusted the now Current Hermione to deal with them. What an irritating wart! Well two could play at that game. Good luck Future Hermione! Despite her flawless reasoning, she braced herself for a mental assault all the same.
But it didn't come. Barty's palms trembled on his desk. "It's scary isn't it? Dying. But there are more frightening things. I wanted to do good, Hermione. I wanted to be a good person, I wanted to follow moral codes, but when those ideals stood in the way of my goals I discarded them. I've murdered, I've tortured, I've seduced, lied, and stolen. I've done so many terrible things. What is self-preservation compared to that? This is nothing. Nothing. It's nothing." Barty shuttered, hugging himself and rocking back and forth, his chair creaking in the night.
"I'll remember you," she said softly, meeting his gaze.
Barty shivered, his eyes coated with a thin film of moisture. "What do the muggles say of death? Is it painful? Is there an afterlife? What is it like… To not exist?"
"We've learned that time exists. The past is still real, even if it seems an illusion," Hermione said gently. "Barty Crouch Junior, you will always exist."
Hermione took his hand. Held it comfortingly until it stopped shaking. Was simply there… To give the wavering man strength… It was the least she could do, after all they'd been through.
"I loved my Mother," said Barty Crouch Junior. "And even if I hated him, I loved Father too. But I lived for more than love."
Barty stood at last. His breath was heavy, his gait unsteady, he could barely even turn the knob to open the door. But open the door he did, however poorly, closing it behind him and giving her one last frightened smile. She heard something slithering in the pipes above her. There was a flash of green light under the door.
She hoped Barty's death was painful. Evil git.
"Now then," Hermione said smiling, "Petrificus Totalus. Wingardium Leviosa." She levitated the portkey into the center of the room, and delicately placed a single finger onto the leather boot at the same moment it touched down on a certain blonde criminal. She was dropped into an icy hellscape. Snowflakes blowing sideways, so large and so dense that she couldn't see farther than 15 feet in any direction. It was so cold that the air felt like it was burning her skin.
She pointed her wand at Gilderoy Lockhart. "Obliviate."
She didn't try to be subtle, as she destroyed the man's mind. He had been little more than a monster, unworthy of being called a human being. The more of his identity that was erased the better. She was in fact doing the world a favor. Lockhart's new identity would be that of an Australian citizen, who enjoyed challenging himself in the great outdoors. Unfortunately, Hermione knew little of actual survival techniques. Aww well, that hardly mattered did it? The important thing was that she emptied his mind of all knowledge of apparition.
"Are you ready for your adventure in Siberia, Mister Hart?" Hermione asked cheerfully.
"Righto," said Mister Roy Hart, the Australian survival enthusiast.
Hermione nodded. "Off you go then."
As soon as he'd turned, she murmured, "Cave Incinimum."
She shivered. Despite being fully clothed she already felt the cold creeping in. A few more minutes and the hypothermia would begin to set in, a few minutes after that, and she'd be quite dead. Ole' Gilly stumbled around in the snow like a complete oaf. Hermione frowned, and shook herself. What was she waiting for? Siberian frost was quite deadly, best not to dally. She touched the boot, returning to Barty's office. A grand solution.
Perhaps Ole' Gilly Boy would even survive. It certainly didn't constitute as murder did it? Certainly not, certainly not.
Hermione waited half an hour, half convinced it was all another elaborate ruse from The Very Evil Barty. But even if it was, she'd done nothing extortion worthy. Her conduct had been morally pristine, none of her actions could be considered even remotely ethically questionable.
"Can you help me with my Transfiguration homework Hermione? I tried to ask Ginny for help, but you know what she's like: always has to be the best, can't stomach helping anyone out of decency.… Hey, did something good happen?" Pansy Parkinson asked, after Hermione had finally returned to the Slytherin Girl's Dormitory. "You look like you've just scored a date with Cedric Diggory."
"Nothing, nothing," said Hermione, although she was unable to keep herself from smiling. She waited until the rest of the girls were asleep, shook Ginny up, and took her to the Room of Requirement. It was lit with a single candle, and the walls were covered in foam soundproof panels.
"I just wanted to thank you," said Hermione, bubbling with joy. "You don't know how much this has been bothering me."
"Thank me for what?" Ginny asked. Her smile became strained. "For what? What did I do?"
Hermione grinned from ear-to-ear. "For killing that prat Barty for me of course. You're just the best friend I could ever ask for! I'll still end up in the Dark Lord's services of course, but this significantly improves my leverage. Now I can get a much better deal!"
"No! No you're wrong, I was studying!" Ginny trembled. "I was studying right? Oh Merlin, I was alone… But I didn't do it! I couldn't! I… I quit! I've stopped writing in the Diary! I did the right thing, so… But… It isn't fair! All I wanted was to be as good as you! To impress Harry. Ron. Mum and Dad… But I never meant to hurt anyone!"
"Oh you," Hermione said, wrapping her best friend Ginny in a great big hug.
"Get off," Ginny shouted, pushing Hermione away. "I'm not a monster! I wouldn't murder for you Hermione! Not for anybody! If I did… If I did what you said I did, it wasn't on purpose! I'd never do something like that, and you ought to be… It ought to bother you more what you've done! It's not about Azkaban, it's about your soul! Murder breaks it!"
Hermione snorted.
"Does your soul feel broken?" Hermione asked.
Tears fell from Ginny's bright brown eyes. "Yes! Yes, and yours ought to as well! I- I've got to turn myself in! Oh Merlin, I've killed someone. And I… I even hurt Perce! What the bloody hell is wrong with me?"
Such self-righteous nonsense. She'd really expected more of Ginevra than such drivel. This was afterall a girl who'd sold her morals to the Dark Lord. That act of wisdom really ought to have carried over to other elements (knowledge was knowledge no matter the source, and to gain The Dark Lord as a mentor was a brilliant move). Hermione had had such high hopes for Ginny. Such high hopes. But she'd been wrong. Ginny was weak.
"Oh Ginny," Hermione said, wiping her dry eyes. "Please… I know how horrible it feels… I understand, I do, I've felt such terrible guilt… But you mustn't tell anyone about what you've done. If you do, I'll go to Azkaban, and… and You-Know-Who, you know that he'll kill you. And your entire family. Only Harry Potter has survived, and you know he's special and you're not. Please, if you keep this a secret, I'll find a way to protect you. You just have to trust me."
Ginny trembled. "I…"
Hermione impatiently yanked at the girl's strings a little harder. "You trust me, right Ginny? You know that I'm on your side. I always have been. Who was there for you when you were sorted into Slytherin? Who saved your brother from Peter Pettigrew? I know it may be hard to see, but you've got to follow my orders if you want the light to prevail over darkness."
"I…" Ginny met Hermione's mask of compassion. "I trust you Hermione. I do. I won't tell… But please, just leave me alone for a little while." Ginny trudged away. Such a sweet, dumb, little girl. Needless to say, Hermione never practiced strengthening her magic with Ginny again. The girl just didn't have the fortitude for the games that came with true ambition. Hermione still enjoyed her company though, still thought of her as a friend, even if she was a terrible disappointment.
The next morning Hermione skipped to the headmaster's office, snapping her fingers, holding her rooster, and dancing as rebellious rock-and-roll bubbled out of her soul. A-bum-bum-bum. Duh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-duh-nuh. Another one bites the dust (That's you Pettigrew). A-bum-bum-bum. Duh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-duh-nuh. And another one bites (Skeeter), and another one bites (Ole' Gilly Boy), and another one bites the dust (Barty). Ahahaha! Oh what a wonderful morning! What a fantastic day to be alive! So many enemies, all gone! Erased without a trace! Hermione twirled happily, before arriving at the headmaster's office.
"You called for me?" Hermione asked, unable to keep herself from singing the question. In her head of course, she'd been training in occlumency for months, her voice was perfectly neutral.
"Professor Lockhart has vanished without a trace," said Headmaster Dumbledore gravely, clocks and knick-knacks grinding and clicking behind him in celebration of Hermione's long awaited freedom.
"A shame," said Hermione. "But he did seem rather flighty."
"Might you take off your sunglasses Miss Granger," said Headmaster Dumbledore. "Whatever was between the two of you, it seems disrespectful to the man."
"We weren't close really," said Hermione, trying to pet Fawkes but only receiving a scratch in return. Hermione shook her head, and pet her rooster instead. He was far better than that horrid phoenix anyways. "And it's rather bright."
It may have been prudent to have erased her memory of the whole ordeal. Actually, she'd been right not to, it was far wiser to try her luck against Headmaster Dumbledore than sacrifice the valuable intel of the Dark Lord's desires for her.
"But if you insist," said Hermione, putting a hand on her stylish shades.
"No, no," said Headmaster Dumbledore, as Hermione had somehow known he would. Because he was after all a very respectable man, perhaps the only one she'd ever truly come across, and he'd never ruin an opportunity for an exciting game of wits with something as horribly unfair as legilimency. "Constant vigilance is a rather wise habit, Miss Granger. I'm sure he'd have approved. I suspect he's dead. Murdered unfortunately."
So Headmaster Dumbledore knew Barty's identity. It seemed a stretch, but Headmaster Dumbledore was quite intelligent. If he knew Barty's identity, did he also know Hermione was a murderer? Well, as long as she could convince him she was on his side he'd not turn her in. That would be a rather childish move, and unbefitting of The Sporting Albus.
"A shame," said Hermione, keeping her elation entirely internal, her exterior a neutral mask. Free, free, she was finally free! "I'm ever so heartbroken. He made life ever so interesting. It's a shame he had to go and die." She stifled a giggle. Barty had actually let her talk him into going out and getting himself killed. What a complete twit! What an utter fool! It had taken all her discipline from bursting into laughter.
Albus smiled, his eyes twinkling. "But it does sound fun doesn't it? To be a fool."
It did. It had been. It was. Afterall, only a fool would murder someone.
And only a genius could get away with it.
XOXOXOX
"So you've come for me at last Granger," said Professor Snape, his dark eyes dull. He didn't look up from his cheap plastic desk. "Let us dispense with the pretenses. You know my sin. I will grant you just one more favour in exchange for your continued silence."
"Err…" Said Hermione. "It is your office hours right? I've just come for some questions about Potions-"
"Enough!" Professor Snape roared. "I will not be led along forever Granger! If you hadn't caught his attention I would have erased your memories already! But test my patience, and I might just throw consequences to the wind and be done with it!"
How very interesting!
Who was this him Professor Snape was referring to? Likely not Albus Dumbledore, Professor Snape had been a spy during The First Wizarding War, morally questionable acts were a product of the profession. No, the him he was referring to had to be The Dark Lord. If Professor Snape tampered with her mind it would come to the attention of The Dark Lord. Why would that be a problem?
What knowledge about Professor Snape did she have that would compromise his position. Quite a bit actually, but to the best of her knowledge he didn't know that she knew about his old crush on Lily Evans. So perhaps it was something else? Perhaps Headmaster Dumbledore was aware of the Dark Lord's scheme to use her to capture a philosopher's stone and was content to simply play along. It was certainly feasible. But it certainly wasn't certain.
The only way to know would be to probe, which might well lead to her uncovering information that was quite confidential, which might well lead to lessons in occlumency with Professor Snape, which might well lead to questions that would result in Innocent Hermione unjustly rotting away in Azkaban and that simply wouldn't do.
Oh bother, covering up a murder was certainly inconvenient. Not at all as whimsical and entertaining as she'd imagined earlier in the year. Well… Perhaps it was a little stimulating… At least after you'd tied up all those tricky loose ends. But overall, it was simply too stressful to be done under normal circumstances.
"I've come to ask you questions about Potions," said Hermione testily. "During your office hours. I'd thought you a little clever- you had realized that Potions was the most important magic afterall," (with the possible exception of enchantments- specifically portkeys and floos), "but perhaps I'd come to conclusions too hastily."
"Fine," Professor Snape said flatly, glaring at her. Or looking like he was glaring, she couldn't quite tell. He really ought to light a few more candles, it was far too dark to work properly. "Ask. But know that overlooking your sudden fascination with wearing sunglasses is the first favor I've granted you."
"It's bright, I can't help it," said Hermione.
"It certainly is in the dungeons," said Professor Snape lightly. "I've convinced Dumbledore that you're wearing them to protect yourself from the basilisk. I've not told him about their other common use, so he can pretend not to know why you're wearing them for a few more weeks."
"When are Potions magic?" Hermione asked.
Professor Snape narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
"This is for entirely academic purposes of course," Hermione said, meeting his dark gaze. Or trying to. It was kinda hard to make him out under her stylish shades.
Professor Snape sighed. "A potion's magical properties are imbued in it during production. The wave of the wand, so common at the end of the recipe. It does not draw out magic during consumption."
Hurrah! That was the answer Hermione had been hoping for. It was what she'd suspected of course, but now it was confirmed.
With that her preparations were all but complete. All that was left was to wait for The Dark Lord to make his move. Oh, she could hardly wait!
And wait… And wait… And wait…
For months nothing happened. Well nothing exciting anyways. She studied, she strengthened her magical core, she grew closer to Ginny. But nothing terrible happened… All things considered, it wasn't that different from Eton or any of the schools she attended before that.
It was just so… so…
End of Part Two
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I'm going to be changing the summary in the next update, so make sure to bookmark or favorite if you don't think you'll be able to recognize the story with a different summary. The next chapter will be super long, and is a buffer between parts 2 and 3. Events can take place anywhere between December and June. Lots of quidditch with Harry, lots of Ron and Neville, Sirius and Snape, and Hermione by herself reaching magical heights previously unknown and slowly… slowly…
Anyways, onto reviews! Apologies if they come off rambly, I've got COVID and everything is fuzzy right now.
ViviTheFolle - I originally considered giving Neville decent power, but after some consideration I decided to make him almost a squib. Neville is my favorite character in cannon, and in this story as well. It's more interesting to me if the root of his struggles is simply a lack of power, and is much more in line with who he has been in this story as well. This story's Hermione will never create horcruxes. She finds them repulsive for reasons that have been alluded to in this story already. Sirius was trying to convey two things to Harry, one good one bad, both probably necessary. The idea that Harry needs to be prepared to kill a death eater is the good one. Harry will get himself and his friends killed if he isn't prepared to fight fire with fire. He's the best fighter the light side's got. I've got no problem with Rowling making Harry a pacifist in what was a children's series, but I don't think it would be appropriate in my story. Hermione's crush ain't going anywhere anytime soon. Barty didn't confund Hermione, everything she said was true. Unfortunately, Hermione has exactly zero emotional intelligence. Remember in cannon that time Lavender's rabbit died and Hermione could only gloat that she was actually right about divination. That's Hermione. Thanks for the review!
Gja03 - No time jump. For plot reasons the story will be ending at the end of year one. There are probably a lot of flaws with this story, but trust me, the ending won't be one of 'em. Although in retrospect, this story makes much more sense if everyone just starts Hogwarts at 13. If I were rewriting the story, I'd age everyone up 2 years. Make that your head cannon if you'd like. Thanks for the review!
Merendinoemiliano - Thanks!