The Dark Lord Part Six: 'Til Death Do You Part

"What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here!" Hermione wailed once she'd caught up to Snape.

"I'm here to give you away. Isn't that what fathers do?" Severus asked, his smile never wavering.

"I don't want you to be my father!"

"But I am, and no matter who you marry, you'll always be my daughter. You can't escape your genes, darling."

"Where is mum?" Hermione asked. The rational part of Hermione, the part that knew this was a drug-induced dream, knew the dream version of her father couldn't tell her anything she didn't already know. But the rational part of her had been struck silent by his appearance.

"She's where she's always been," he said at length.

"What did you do to her?"

The Dark Lord put the flowers he'd picked into the brunette's limp hands.

"Your bouquet," he explained, as if she could understand him. "It's time."

~CAPE~

"You know, Potter," Mad-Eye said, as he and Ron stood outside the gate of the Riddle home with the vigilante, "I usually don't do two shows in one evening."

"Thank you for coming," Harry said. His friends lifted their shotguns. He shook his head. "No, leave your dates here. The Dark Lord's men are drugged. I don't want you to shoot them."

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Ron asked.

"I thought you were looking forward to busting some heads?"

~CAPE~

Bellatrix wheeled Hermione down the aisle, towards where Riddle waited with the priest. Witnesses (some of them former patients of St. Mungos, others former employees, and all of them as high as a kite) were arranged in rows facing the front.

The musicians had moved inside. After her bridesmaids had marched into the chapel, Severus escorted Hermione down the aisle, towards where Harry, beaming, waited with the minister.

"Do you, Summer Ferrin, take…"

"…Harry Potter to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," Hermione answered.

"And do you, Tom Riddle, take Summer Ferrin…"

"…to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," Harry answered.

"Then by the power invested in me, I now pronounce …"

"…you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the minister finished.

The Dark Lord bent towards his bride, ready to kiss her. For the first time since the ceremony had begun, she moved—away from him.

"HARRY!" Hermione blurted as she flinched away.

"What did you say?" Riddle hissed. Anger made his veins throb. Even in her drugged state, the bride seemed to realize she'd made a mistake.

"Tom—"

"Don't call me that!" the villain yelled. "Call me the Dark Lord. That's what I am, so that's what you should call me!" She didn't love him after all. She'd only let him think that she had, when she was really in love with some tosser named Harry.

"Bella, take her away. Give her twenty CCs of the paralytic, and then bury her!"

Obediently, Lestrange wheeled the bride back down the aisle.

~CAPE~

Ron kicked one of the Dark Lord's followers down the stairs before the trio descended them into the basement of the house.

"Feeling better?" Harry asked.

Ron thought about it, and then nodded.

The door they'd just come through slammed shut behind them, locking automatically. They would have to find another way out. As they proceeded searching the place, Harry informed them that Riddle's father before him had been a chemist who had worked in that very house and reminded them about the deadly toxin Riddle had prepared.

"Thanks for telling us this after we've gotten ourselves locked into a basement with no circulation," Ron quipped.

Moody frowned as he observed how dreary the setting was.

"What kind of monster was born here?" he asked.

"This kind," Riddle responded, entering the room with two of his minions.

As the Cape surged forward to confront the Dark Lord, Moody spoke to Ron.

"You take the two on the left."

"…There are only two of them!" Ron pointed out. Still, he moved to intercept the nearest of them. "This is for Lavender!" he announced, as his fist made contact with the man's head.

~CAPE~

"You just had to try to steal him for yourself, didn't you?" Bella accused the blogger. She didn't notice when the young woman's fingers, which had been twitching on and off all evening, finally grasped hold of the I.V. needle inserted in her wrist and yanked it out.

Lestrange picked up a gag, one that had often been used on Tom as he was growing up in the Sanitarium, when the orderlies would restrain him. She brought it towards the reporter's mouth.

"Bite down, honey."

Harry tried to spoon-feed his new wife.

"Hermione, have some cake."

She wouldn't take it. She frowned.

"You don't know my name!" Her eyes went back to that mysterious door and this time, she walked up to it to open it.

"Orwell!" Harry shouted, abandoning use of her real name since she'd pointed out that his real self was not supposed to have this information.

"I have to know," she said, half to herself, as she pulled the door open to see what was on the other side.

Bellatrix had decided to forgo use of the gag after all. Didn't matter; the whore was already stoned; she wasn't likely to scream much as she was injected.

Lestrange lifted up the syringe, but was stopped by Hermione's hand seizing her arm.

"You want him?" Hermione Snape asked. "You can have him!" Her hand over the nurse's, she drove the paralytic into Bellatrix's neck.

But the exertion was too much for her, and Hermione slumped to the floor afterwards.

~CAPE~

"I should warn you," the Dark Lord addressed his masked opponent, "one of the side-effects of my condition is that I can't feel pain." He demonstrated this by casually picking up a knife and slicing his hand open, unknowingly imitating Hermione's act in her dream.

Harry looked behind Riddle and formulated a plan.

"When you wake up," Harry began, "you tell me if you felt this!" He flung out his cape and grabbed hold—not of Riddle, but of the armoire behind the man, and brought it crashing down on the monster.

Once the Dark Lord was knocked out, the Cape ran off in search of Orwell.

"Orwell!" he cried. "Orwell!"

Hermione looked up.

She saw Harry, her groom, kneeling over her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She couldn't see the mask he was wearing or the costume that went with it; couldn't see past the hallucination of him in her mind's eye.

"Harry, you were here all along, weren't you?" she asked, as he lifted her up. She passed out in his arms.

~CAPE~

Ginny unlocked the door of her apartment, and was surprised to see her son waiting up for her.

"Al, what are you doing up? It's," she checked her watch, "ten o'clock!" It felt later than that. Even so, the ten-year-old should've gone to bed.

"Mum, how did it go?" Al asked.

She sighed and sat down next to him.

"It…went well. I think he got what he needed," she reported.

"He's pretty cool, isn't he?" Al asked, smiling. Ginny nodded.

"Yeah, he's pretty cool," she agreed. Her conscience attacked her. "Al, I'm so sorry I didn't believe you when you'd said you'd seen the Cape. I should've listened to you."

"Mum, I don't know if I can forgive you," Al said solemnly. "But, an extra-large pizza, with pepperoni, might help your case."

"You want pizza at this hour?" Ginny exclaimed. Then she remembered that she'd left with the Cape before putting up dinner. Although Al could've taken something from the fridge, like that egg salad she'd found. It had looked kind of disgusting, though…

"Alright," she relented, getting up to call the pizzeria, "but just this once!"

~CAPE~

The next day, back at Trolley Park, Moody tipped tea into the brunette's mouth. Hermione swallowed some, and then spluttered.

"What is that stuff?" she demanded as she sat up on the Carnival's couch.

"It's a special blend; has healing properties," Moody grunted. "Of course, it did kill Alexander the Great, but those Greeks tend to overdo things." He reached for his flask and took a swig of whiskey.

Hermione looked around and spotted Harry.

"What happened?" she asked him.

"I took Riddle back to Owl Island. The Dark Lord won't be bothering anyone again.

"But he's still the heir to his family's property (may he enjoy it from prison), so Snape won't be able to buy the docks from the city." She'd been successful, though the victory had come at a hard price.

"That just leaves one mystery," Moody interjected, putting away his flask "Who is this young lady?"

"Mad-Eye, I told you. She's…" Harry trailed off, wishing he had a real name to put with her face. "A friend," he said at last. "She's a friend."

Hermione looked between Harry and Moody. They were her friends; they had saved her life. She couldn't tell them who she was, but there was something she could tell Moody. He deserved that much.

"I'm Orwell," she admitted, looking Moody in the eye.

He whistled.

"That's quite a secret you kept, Potter."

"I learned from the best," Harry replied.

Moody took Hermione's hand and kissed it.

"Welcome, Orwell, to the Carnival of Crime."

He left the tent afterwards. Harry took his cape and wrapped it around Orwell's shoulders.

"Rest," he instructed her.

She nodded and went back to drinking the tea. It might be foul-tasting, but if it kept the hallucinations from coming back, it was a small price to pay.

Author's Note: I'm ending episode 8 there. I'm the one typing this version and I say enough of the bloody door already! Newsflash NBC: No one wants Orwell to be a few bats short of a belfry.

Once again, this chapter has not been beta'd.

I would like to thank dem bones, Orwell, and IronAmerica for reviewing! In regards to IA's review, of course I would never want to discourage anyone from donating to Toys for Tots. I merely want to discourage Toys R Us and other businesses from sponsoring Revolting. I believe toys can be purchased from other vendors and then donated, but correct me if I'm wrong.

Anyone looking forward to the HP version of Razor? You know what to do. In the meantime, I'm going to read Rowling's new book.