"Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight! I mean, how do they expect to get away with it? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just –" – Hermione in Goblet of Fire chapter 9
— CHAPTER TWELVE —
Drunk and Mad
After the dance, Hermione slipped out of the drawing room to go to the bathroom which, according to Bellatrix, was the last door in the corridor on the right of the entrance hall.
Coddy the house-elf accosted her in the hall, falling into a bow and clutching at the hem of her dress. "Oh, Miss, Coddy is so sorry," the elf sobbed. "Coddy tried to warn Miss, oh yes Coddy did, but Coddy was scared Mistress would notice. Mistress would have been so angry..."
The elf looked around fearfully and hit himself on the head with his fist.
"Coddy?" Hermione said uncertainly. "Stop! What are you talking about?"
"Coddy cannot tell," the elf whispered, "Coddy cannot tell because Coddy's Masters are bad wizards, very bad wizards –" He suddenly looked horrified. "Bad Coddy!" he squeaked, repeatedly banging his head against the wall. "Bad Coddy!"
The house-elf looked at Hermione, who stood watching in sickened horror. "Coddy is not supposed to speak ill of his masters. Coddy has to punish himself."
She stared at the house-elf, noting that he looked quite dirty. Why didn't he clean himself? It was strange. "You shouldn't do that, Coddy," she said sadly, before moving on through the corridor.
When she emerged from the bathroom, a crowd had formed in the entrance hall. Most people in the group were Death Eaters, including an eager-looking Bellatrix. The dark-haired woman, who seemed to have taken it as her personal duty to integrate Hermione into the Dark side, motioned for her to approach. Hermione did so, wondering what this was all about.
"Now we are going out for entertainment," drawled Lucius, his eyes glinting with excitement. He was at the head of the group, and the others were huddled around him waiting for instructions. In the Dark Lord's absence, he was their leader.
"What kind of entertainment?" Hermione asked warily.
"Muggle-hunting. A Christmas present from us to them."
Hermione had long ago noticed his enthusiasm about terrorising Muggles. And drunk Dark wizards were reckless, as she had seen at the Quidditch World Cup.
She felt torn between protesting against the cruelty done to the defenseless Muggles, and berating them for the risks they would be taking. What if the Ministry caught them? But her interest in the opportunity to practice Unforgivable curses won. She remembered the thrill she had felt when casting the Cruciatus and she longer to experience it again. Obviously, she wasn't entirely sober either.
"I am going with you," stated Narcissa, emerging from the corridor that led to the dining room. Sophie Rosier stood behind her. At the mention of Muggle-hunting, Mrs Rosier's deadened eyes had regained some life.
"Absolutely not! You will stay at the manor, Narcissa. Have you any idea of the trouble they –" Lucius indicated the children who were running around playing hide-and-seek, "– might cause if left without proper supervision?"
"Pansy will keep an eye on the guests," Narcissa responded calmly. "She has shown great skill in organising this event. Only the Lord knows what I would have done without her assistance. She will oversee the evening's festivities in my place while I join you."
"No, Narcissa, you are not coming with us. I care naught about your opinion of Pansy's capacities as a lady of the manor, which I find no more remarkable than yours. You are staying at the manor, do you hear me?"
"Fine!" she said resentfully. "Pardon me for merely wanting to make sure you are not ambushed by Aurors in your drunked state. Muggle-hunting is not a pastime worthy of a noble lady anyway." She turned her nose up in disdain. Her furious blue eyes strayed to Hermione where she stood next to Bellatrix. "Surely she is not going, commoner though she is."
"Why not, Madam?" Hermione asked lazily. "You know I'm a Death Eater."
"Muggle-hunting is not an activity for respectable witches. It is unladylike to participate in such a thing."
"Hypocrite," Hermione mumbled under her breath.
"Then what am I, sister dearest?" Bellatrix cut in. "Are you saying I am no lady?"
"If I didn't know you are sleeping with the Dark Lord, I would wonder," Narcissa spat viciously.
"What's got into you, Cissy?" asked Bellatrix harshly, looking not at all embarrassed. "You've been in one hell of a horrible mood all evening."
Hermione edged away from the bickering siblings. She looked at the people around her – her fellow Death Eaters, plus Mrs Rosier. They were conjuring Death Eater robes and masks and pulling them over their dress robes.
Hermione was confused. "But it's cold and snowing outside. We might freeze to death if that's all we wear!"
Rabastan Lestrange turned to her, smiling. "These robes are charmed to repel water and keep you warm regardless of the weather. Do you remember feeling cold at the last meeting?"
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, cheeks warming. The night of her initiation had been rather chilly, but she didn't remember feeling the least bit cold. "Thanks, Rabastan."
"It's nothing," he mumbled, blushing. "You're new among us. It's normal that you don't know the way things work here, and without someone to guide you..."
By all signs, Rabastan Lestrange was infatuated with her. Hermione tactfully moved away from him. Then everyone was startled by Bellatrix's shrill laughter coming from the corner where she stood exchanging insults with her sister. "Always knew – you were – a loser, Cissy!" Bellatrix shrieked gleefully between peals of laughter, while her blonde sibling dashed from the room, red in the face as though in her exasperation, she had revealed something to her cruel sister that she now regretted.
In the commotion, Hermione quietly pushed her way through the cluster of Death Eaters and slipped into the position beside Lucius.
"Where are we going?" she asked him.
"To London. They are currently celebrating on the streets. Perhaps you know a convenient spot, Hermione?"
"I know just the place," she said after a second's hesitation. "I did spend my childhood in the Muggle world. There's always a huge crowd in Trafalgar Square, in the City."
"Ah, very convenient to have a Muggle-born in out midst." He then gave directions to the rest of the group.
They appeared in a crowd of Muggles who were singing and laughing, some of them looking quite a bit drunk. The Death Eaters sprung into action while Hermione, as it was her first time participating in an attack with the Dark Order, stood back and watched. Mulciber had cast the Imperius curse on a cluster of Muggles and was watching them fight each other, while Bellatrix was performing the Cruciatus Curse, resulting in high-pitched screams that echoed through the crowd.
Hermione glanced over at Lucius. Three struggling Muggles were floating in mid-air high above him, exactly like at the Quidditch World Cup, and he was making them perform some weird acrobatics in mid-air, directing their moves with a flick of his wand.
She knew Lucius well enough to realise what was going on in his head. To him, everything was about control. He could have used the Imperius, like Mulciber, but he liked to see them struggle. He wanted to see the strain on their faces as they tried, uselessly, to direct their actions. He wanted to witness the horror in their eyes as they realised they had no control over their own bodies whilst their minds fought against the external force controlling them.
He sought emotional control. He wanted them to be conscious of their own weakness; he wanted them to be aware of the power he had over them. Hermione knew all too well the look in his eyes. It was the same look he regarded her with every night, staring down into her eyes as though seeking to control her thoughts. Hermione had to admit it was strangely thrilling. He was the most controlling man she had ever met, and yet, in his presence, she felt safe and simply happy. He made her mind go quiet.
When his arms surrounded her, she felt shielded from danger and judgement. When she was with him, nothing else seemed to matter. True, she had been acting a little carelessly lately, but she knew no harm could befall her. She was on the winning side, and the second most powerful Dark wizard in the country was her protector. What did she have to fear?
Hermione's attention was caught when one of the Muggles in the crowd shouted, "Look at those weidos! Over there!"
It was a young woman in a pink coat. Another young woman, wearing a blue coat, replied:
"Wow! Freaks! Hey! Freaks!"
Hermione slowly stalked closer to the rude pair. This was the kind of Muggles who had raised Harry, the kind that considered magic evil simply because they feared it.
She aimed her wand at each of the two women in turns. It would be the first time she hurt a person who hadn't harmed her or others...
"Hey, clown, you gonna poke us with that stick or what?"
Hermione, NO! screamed the shattered remains of her conscience. But she was too far gone to hear it.
She concentrated on the hatred she knew Lucius felt towards these people, people who had persecuted witches and wizards for centuries and who would still do so today if they had the chance, just because they were afraid of magic. She concentrated on how he would have wanted to see this filth brought low and lifeless, lifeless like the ill-fated witches who had had the bad luck to find themselves wandless in the Muggle world during the Inquisition and were burned alive.
"Avada Kedavra!" yelled Hermione.
Green light burst from the tip of her wand. There was a rushing sound similar to a gust of wind, followed by the thud of a body falling to the ground.
The Muggle who had called her a "clown" lay unmoving in the snow, her face frozen in an expression of shock, her mouth gaping open.
The other Muggle woman screamed and threw herself at the body, shaking it and yelling, "Wake up!"
Hermione felt light-headed; the rush of power had been exhilarating. To have the ability to take someone's life with just two words … it was unlike anything she had experienced before and she understood why the Dark Arts were said to be addictive. Not that it was a bad thing, was it? she thought dazedly. There were enough Muggles in the world, more than enough to... to...
"You!" The surviving Muggle rounded on her. Her eyes were both tearful and bulging with rage. "What did you do to my sister?" she shrieked.
The Death Eaters around them laughed.
"How pathetic," said Lucius, resting his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Look at her. She has witnessed the power you wield, yet she is foolish enough to disrespect you still. Too stupid even to have a trace of fear." His hand squeezed her shoulder. "Teach her to respect magic, to fear it. Do it, Hermione... now."
She lifted her wand again. Her thoughts were oddly silent. "Crucio!"
The Muggle collapsed by her sister's corpse in the snow, screaming like a banshee. The Death Eaters jeered.
Hermione maintained the curse through it all. She wondered how long it would take for the spell to cause insanity. "Hey, Bellatrix!"
Bellatrix, who had been watching in gleeful fascination, raised her eyes from the writhing body. "What?"
Hermione couldn't believe what she was about to ask. It seemed the Firewhiskey had succeeded in making her let go of all inhibitions, of all traces of conscience or shame. With pure scholarly curiosity, she asked, "How long did it take the Longbottoms to lose their minds?"
Bellatrix's eyes lit up in joyful remembrance. "The man cracked after fifty minutes. The woman was tougher. She broke after an hour and twelve minutes. I took note of the time. It was mostly Rodolphus and I, but Rabastan and the Crouch boy helped."
Hermione had once feared being victim of the same fate. Now a Muggle was about to suffer that fate at her hand. How odd. She wondered if the Ministry wizards would put this Muggle in St Mungo's when they found her. Muggles with magical ailments were usually placed in a secluded ward of the wizard hospital, healed then Obliviated. But insanity resulting from prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus never healed...
She imagined what she looked like, right now, laughing over the corpse of someone she had killed and torturing a Muggle into insanity. What have I become? she wondered, mildly horrified. But as she met the grey eyes watching her with fond delight, she knew she was beyond caring. He was right... They were just Muggles...
"You make me proud," Lucius said softly in her ear. He slid a hand under her hood and caressed her hair tenderly. She maintained the curse as the Muggle screamed and writhed. It wasn't that difficult; she just had to want the victim to be in pain, and she wanted it, because it made him happy.
The two of them stood there, she torturing the woman while he made a pair of Muggles spin in the air with his wand, like puppets on a string. Bellatrix watched, cackling.
After about ten minutes of Cruciatus, the Muggle woman stopped screaming. She had lost consciousness.
"Weakling," Bellatrix muttered, bored, and walked off in search of a new target.
Hermione thought for a moment, then pointed her wand at a random Muggle woman in the crowd. Judging by her actions, she really had drunk too much Firewhisky, and it brought out the less than kind side of her personality.
There was a flash of light and the Muggle woman was hanging upside-down in the air, her heavy skirt falling over her head.
The Death Eaters laughed and Lucius turned his head sideways to glance at Hermione through the eye-slits in his mask. "I should have known … there, I thought for a second that Narcissa had disobeyed me and followed us. That was her doing, at the World Cup … though it seems to amuse them a great deal," he added as the Death Eaters around them jeered louder than ever. Bellatrix's gleeful shrieks stood out distinctly.
Lucius flicked his wand, letting the three Muggles fall to the ground and crack their skulls open on the pavement. "That spares us the effort of terminating their petty existences."
Hermione shrugged. True, the method was rather grotesque, but it wasn't like she actually cared. She flicked her wand upwards and the Muggle she had been levitating dropped to the ground as well.
"As a Ministry witch, shouldn't I Obliviate the others?"
"Absolutely not," Lucius said sharply.
"Why not?"
"Muggles were meant to fear us, Hermione, and in order to fear us, they need to be aware of our existence," he said vehemently, his eyes flashing.
"You know that the Obliviators will be here in no time; the Ministry won't let them remember anyway, so what's the use?"
"Principles, Hermione... let the Ministry clean up after us if they so desire, it is their business. Besides, do you not realise it would look highly suspicious? Death Eaters do not erase traces of such attacks."
"Sorry," she mumbled. "I guess I've drunk too much."
"We all have."
"Yes, I can see that," she said, looking away from the activities that were going on around them. "We shouldn't stay here. It's not wise to wait for the Ministry wizards."
"I highly doubt they would be so swift on a holiday. Think – what are your colleagues doing at the present time?"
"Most are having Christmas parties," Hermione said in realisation. "They'll be too drunk to do their duty even if they were called to office."
"Precisely. However, you are correct, we need not risk it – we are done here!" he shouted to the Death Eaters around them. "Macnair, come back here and clean up! Avery, help him – Dolohov, just kill them and get over with it, we haven't got time to fool around – Bellatrix, leave her, leave her, I say – you'll have plenty of chances to torture a Muggle later. Hermione, summon the Mark!"
The masked figures obeyed, but with visible reluctance. They stopped whatever they were doing to torture the Muggles – Hermione saw Bellatrix lower her wand, breaking the Cruciatus Curse she had been performing on some Muggle girl who looked no older than five, while Macnair was stuffing what looked like a large knife into the pocket of his robes. But some did not turn away before casting a killing curse.
There were flashes of green and the Muggles shrieked in terror. The Death Eaters laughed and jeered.
"Enough for today!" Lucius shouted at them just as Hermione aimed her wand at the sky. "We need to leave before the Aurors arrive!"
"Morsmordre!" said Hermione.
No sooner had she said it that there were popping sounds all around them. Too late! Ten wizards, each wearing the distinct red robes of the Aurors, had appeared out of thin air. All had their wands aimed at them.
Hermione tensed; this was the first time she faced her colleagues as enemies. She could discern a mop of red hair in the crowd, and a pair of emerald-green eyes glinting ferociously.
At the arrival of the Ministry wizards, the Death Eaters gasped and yelled to alert their fellows, but not one quite knew what to do. Hermione felt Lucius's hand tighten painfully on her shoulder.
She had always been quick to think – and act – in dangerous situations. Panic did not cloud her mind but prompted her into action. She was much quicker than the others, who had frozen momentarily - the same thing that had been their undoing at the Department of Mysteries.
Hermione promptly levitated two nearest Muggles into the sky, directly under the glowing Dark Mark and as high as she could, so that they would be fully visible to the Aurors.
"Lower your wands or I'll drop them," she said loudly, disguising her voice in the only way she could think of: by drawing out the vowel sounds and pronouncing the words with deliberate slowness. The result was a feminine version of the Malfoy drawl, and sounded nothing like Hermione's voice. It was a good thing she was wearing a mask; she only hoped her eyes weren't enough to give away her identity.
She had succeeded in gaining the Aurors' attention. They aimed their wands at her, but not one spell was cast. Their eyes moved between the group of Death Eaters and the Muggles held hostage, then they glanced at each other hopelessly.
Hermione knew their weaknesses – she had been one of them. She knew that their conscience would not allow them to condemn poor, defenceless Muggles to certain death, not even for the sake of capturing a group of Death Eaters.
If they were to cast a spell on the Death Eaters and miss, the Muggles would fall to the ground, and from that height, they would likely die from the fall. And if they managed to Stun the Death Eaters, the Levitation spell would be lifted abruptly and the Muggles would still fall.
What to do, what to do … she could see that not even Harry knew how to react in this situation. Perhaps some of the Aurors were ruthless and would have preferred to take the risk, but with Harry in the lead … his greatest weakness had always been his fear of causing another person's death.
She saw Bellatrix snap out of her shock and pounce on one of the Aurors – a young woman who had only qualified recently. Bellatrix grabbed her before she had the time to defend herself and pressed her wand to her neck.
"Hello, little bitty baby Potter," Bellatrix called out to the leader of the red-robed group. "You try to attack us and she dies."
"Lestrange," Harry Potter spat hatefully, pointing his wand at Bellatrix. Hermione wondered if he was going to cast the Cruciatus Curse. She had heard he had done so in their fifth year … but surely he wouldn't do it in front of all his fellow Aurors!
"Going to curse me, Potter?" shrieked Bellatrix. "Go ahead, then, do it, raise your wand – and your friend dies. It would be no big loss – you Aurors should be used to losing your buddies to our cause –"
"Do you think you can save every filthy Muggle in the world from us, Potter, when you can't even save your friends?" Lucius added, with a malicious glance at the Auror held hostage by Bellatrix.
Bellatrix's daring act, combined with Hermione's resourceful move, had given the others time to recover from the Aurors' sudden arrival. While Harry and his colleagues were distracted by Bellatrix, the Death Eaters were raising their wands, preparing to duel with the Aurors who wanted to rescue the Muggles.
"Come back here!" Lucius shouted to the other Death Eaters. "Surround us! Form a circle at once!"
The hooded wizards, who were about to start duelling with the Aurors, obeyed. They formed a dense crowd around Lucius, Hermione and Bellatrix, thus shielding them from any spell the Aurors could cast in an attempt to free the Muggles held hostage by the two witches.
"Come, my dear," Lucius said, grabbing Hermione's hand. He Disapparated, taking her with him, leaving their fellow Death Eaters to fend for themselves. She heard a crack as Bellatrix Disapparated at the same time as they.
They reappeared in the warm entrance hall of the manor and Hermione belatedly realised that the Anti-Apparition wards did not apply to Lucius, since he could Apparate inside the grounds. Only powerful blood magic could override an Anti-Apparition barrier of such magnitude.
She let out a breath of relief. "That was close," she said as they removed their masks and cloaks.
"It was fun nonetheless –" started Lucius.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. She wouldn't call it fun … so risky …
"– but I did not expect the meddling fools to arrive so quickly. A wise move you did out there … ingenious, in fact. You have learned well, Hermione,"
She smiled, still a little shaken. "I've always been quick to take action in dangerous circumstances … but I was so scared … we could have ended up in Azkaban!"
"But we did not, thanks to you. However, I wonder how the others are faring. The Dark Lord is not going to be in high spirits if they get themselves apprehended yet again. Incidentally, I was glad to see you mingling so well in the crowd, although it did startle me to see you seated at my wife's table."
"Bellatrix invited me to her table. I couldn't say no. She had been helping me a lot..."
Suddenly, Hermione felt an icy sensation in her stomach. The feeling resembled the one brought by a Dementor's presence, but there were no Dementors nearby. She still felt the warm air of the room, but she shivered, chilled to the bones. Her breathing became shallow and her vision blurred.
"You look awfully pale, Hermione. Are you ill?" Lucius said sharply. It was one of the few times she had seen him show any kind of concern.
"I'm not feeling well. I think I should go home."
"Then do so."
Hermione hurriedly put her fur coat on over her dress, though it did nothing to warm her. Something wasn't right.
She remembered the house elf's bizarre warning and the triumphant look she had glimpsed in Narcissa's eyes, and a chill raced through her that had nothing to do with her physical symptoms.