It's almost Christmas! So let's celebrate with some wanton violence eh? :) I've been having the crappiest week ever at work, and lets just say writing this chapter was cathartic to say the least.
Warning, not for the squeamish!
"Let's get going. I've got places to be. People to do!" Rodolphus was pacing angrily in front of the marble fireplace, smoke puffing from his cigarette in a steam engine fashion. Bellatrix, leaning against the mantelpiece, rolled her eyes at the sight, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. The Death Eaters had convened in the Manor, and were quickly donning robes and masks. Rodolphus whined loudly once more, turning to his wife with anger. "Bellatrix! What's the bloody holdup?"
"Still your tongue you bastard! Don't make me saw it out! We are waiting for Hermione." She gestured toward the front of the great room, where the brunette was busy putting on her robe. Fleur was helping her.
Rodolphus gave a look of pure disgust. "The brat? What the hell is she doing coming with us tonight? We're trying to take out Moody tonight. The bloated codfish fights like a pit bull and you're bringing the brat?" He took a harsh drag of his cigarette and promptly hacked up a gob of spit onto the floor. A few wet coughs followed.
Bellatrix rushed toward Rodolphus and pressed the tip of her jagged wand against his jugular. She had it pressed so hard into his skin, with each breath he drew the wand's tip would lodge itself between the fibrous muscles and tendons of his neck. The cigarette quivered between his lips. "We don't have a choice!" she hissed. "The Dark Lord insisted she be immersed in a real combat situation before we attack the Jubilee."
"How is the Dark Lord so certain she won't sell us out to the Order once we arrive?"
A flame flicked out from the tip of her wand, scalding the hairs of his neck and with a lightning quick smack of her palm, she shoved the lit cigarette down her husband's throat. "You dare besmirch Him with such a question!" He started choking immediately, grabbing at his throat with his hands. Ash sputtered from his mouth as he tried to get anyone's attention.
His face was beginning to turn blue before Bellatrix begrudgingly dislodged the offending object from his windpipe with a flick of her warped wand. "Anapneo." The incantation was barely a sigh.
"Bloody bitch!" He shoved her away and walked over toward the couch and sat with a huff. Bellatrix turned to look toward Hermione and Fleur.
"'Ermy...are you certain 'zis 'ees what you wish to do? Narcissa 'as told me 'ow dangerous 'zees raids are.". The Frenchwoman gripped Hermione's shoulders tightly, holding her at arms length. "People are going to get 'urt tonight...aren't 'zey?" Her tone was deathly serious. Hermione could only nod. "'Zey are going with intent to kill aren't 'zey?" Another nod. "'Ermione...please...don't do 'zis...tell 'zem no."
A few tears sliding down the soft slope of her cheeks accompanied Hermione's weak response. "I don't think I can. They will kill me...besides...I'm in this until the phylacteries are destroyed. You have been kept in bondage far too long...I am fighting for our freedom too my love...please believe me."
Fleur swallowed a nagging lump in her throat before leaning her head against her lover's chest and her slender arms came to rest around Hermione's waist. "'Eef 'zere 'ees any killing to be 'ad tonight...promise me 'eet won't involve you...". Fleur shuddered in Hermione's embrace. "I love you..." Her words frail.
Hermione rested her forehead against the blonde's, savoring the fleeting contact with the pillow soft skin. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, taking in Fleur's scent. "I promise." Their lips met in a soft kiss, both women caring nothing of the group of people surrounding them. After they pulled apart, Fleur reached behind her and produced an ornate mask of fashioned silver. It had been polished to the point where it seemed to produce it's own light. Fleur gently placed the mask in Hermione's open palms. Celtic style spirals were etched into the cheeks and forehead of an otherwise feline looking mask. The brunette's fingertips traced the grooves of the disguise with some trepidation.
"'Zey 'ad 'eet fashioned to look like 'zee face of a fully transformed Veela. Rabastan 'ees quite 'zee silversmith non?" Fleur's light laughter did nothing to mask the nervousness eating at her.
Hermione turned to look over at her godmother. Bellatrix wore one of her tattered leather corset gown combinations, and there was no sign of her wanting to put on her robe or her mask. Bellatrix didn't care much for disguises. The other Death Eaters however, where working to conceal their identities.
"Keep 'zis on mon ange. You don't want 'zee Order to recognize you.". Fleur gently placed the ornate mask in Hermione's open palms, and she curled the brunette's fingers around the cold metal with her own. Fleur leaned over and placed a kiss on Hermione's forehead. "Bonne chance..." Hermione muzzled her nose into the crook of Fleur's neck; a favorite act of affection to Fleur. Fleur pressed her lips into Hermione's soft hair and sighed, bringing her arms to rest around Hermione's body once more. "Do you know where you are 'eaded tonight?"
"No." Hermione lied, nuzzling once more. The remained entangled in the other's arms for another minute. Hermione didn't want to leave the sanctuary of Fleur's arms. Nowhere else in the world made her feel so safe. A damp warmth could be felt on her scalp as Fleur struggled to stop crying. Hermione could only respond with a kiss.
Bellatrix suddenly clapped her hands twice loudly, calling all of the Death Eaters into the common room, where she stood before the fireplace. "I will be back soon baby...I promise."
"Be safe mon amor. Come back to me 'een one piece...please...". A few more fervent kisses and the two lovers drew apart, one turned toward the group in the parlor, and the other quietly absconded into the depths of the manor.
They all stood in a tight huddle, with Bellatrix the sole voice speaking. "Our plan for tonight is simple. We apparate into the wheat fields, and move toward the rotten house from all angles. I shall take point and draw their primary defenses out of the home with a diversion. Strike at the sides of the home as soon as you see them try and attack me. Kill no one but the target." A chorus of groaning. "That is an order from the Dark Lord himself!" She snarled, her eyes wild. "Rough them up, dismember them if you must, but kill no one. We need to concentrate our forces on the target, and though he may appear old and fat, no one must underestimate his power. Moody can think like one of us, he is all too familiar with our tactics. A few of us have battled him before. That is why we shall corner him, when he is bereft of his allies, and then we strike!"
One by one the Death Eaters apparated away, and Bellatrix approached Hermione, who was holding her silver mask with trembling hands. A quick nod from the dark witch and Hermione hurriedly tied her hair back and donned her mask. Her drawn hood completed the disguise. She disapparated with a pop.
The vast wheat fields ebbed and flowed like the surface of a golden pond. The moonlight danced across the field as the pack of cloaked figures swam through the plants, drawing closer to the dilapidated home that stood like a beacon at the field's center.
The Burrow.
A few lit windows dotted the tall house, a steady stream of smoke puffing from one of it's tin chimneys. A snakelike cloud of smoke whipped wildly around the house in broad sweeping circles. Bellatrix was stalking her prey, awaiting the perfect moment to strike. Hermione stood at the threshold of the field, staring at the closed front door; a door she was so familiar with. Her heart pounded and she crouched down deeply nestled amongst the wheat as she spied the Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin quickly pass by one of the windows. They were walking side by side up the stairs talking quietly amongst themselves. Each minute that passed felt like hours to Hermione, who was sweating underneath the thick cloak, despite the harsh bite of the night air. It was mid-March, and the thermometer moved barely an inch. She could see the silvery mist of her own breaths slip through the holes of the mask.
She had been preparing for this.
She had been made privy of the plans in the weeks prior when Bellatrix decided that a raid on the Burrow would be fitting for Hermione's first foray into combat with the Death Eaters. At the Dark Lord's request, Bellatrix passed her knowledge of dueling on to the young witch. Their training sessions occurred in complete secrecy; with Hermione sneaking off the grounds to meet Bellatrix in the depths of the forbidden Forrest.
Then they would fight.
It was extremely risky, sparring with the dark witch so closely to the Aurors. However the nerves nourished the two witches, fueling the adrenaline rush surging through their veins. These duels would last for hours on into the night, by the end one of the two women was nearly unconscious and bloodied. Hermione had to have her bed sheets replaced several times, as her roommates found the bloodstains to be quite unsettling.
When she was alone, Hermione continued to run and condition her body. Often she chose to subject her body to the elements, dueling Bellatrix during a raging snowstorm clad in only a tank top and shorts, or fully submerging herself in the inky water of the black lake on a particularly cold day. Her lungs would shrivel to raisins in her chest on contact, her breaths coming like jagged objects being hastily rammed down her windpipe. And she would force herself to swim to the far side of the bank before climbing out. Her shivers were nearly epileptic in their intensity.
Winter slowly gave way to spring, and the snowstorms had been replaced with rain, and the young witch was always out in the daily deluge. The training sessions gifted her with the occasional broken bone, but it was nothing the dark witch couldn't heal.
In the late hours of one night Hermione telekinetically cast the bombarda spell at a rather large boulder, that was several meters away. The resulting crater was nothing short of massive. Bellatrix beamed proudly, patting the young witch on her back.
It was at that moment the elder witch decided to reveal the plans for the raid.
The Jubilee was less than a month away.
At first Hermione felt great trepidation over the plans. So much of her young life had been spent at the Weasley home, could she really just attack it? Thoughts traveled back to Ron and Ginny, both of whom still regarded her at school with utmost vitriol. Ginny took things a step further, physically barring the doors to the women's bathroom from Hermione until everyone was finished. And still Lavender would insist upon smothering the sleeping Helen Gaunt with a bed sheet. Finally Hermione relented and asked Bill Weasley if he wouldn't mind keeping Helen at Shell Cottage. He was more than eager to oblige the simple request, and he even didn't question Hermione's wish that her mother be given a view of the ocean wherever Bill decided to hang her frame. With a simple reduction spell, Helen was whisked away via owl to the shore, and Hermione prayed every night for Bill to tell her that Helen had finally awoken. Unfortunately that message had yet to arrive.
Recently, she found herself with a daily task of defending Draco Malfoy from afar. At the urging of Narcissa, Hermione reluctantly agreed to keep a watchful eye on her son, and often that involved preventing calamity with her telekinetic ability. Draco still treated Hermione the same way he always did in the past, but it did not bother the young Gryffindor much. His jabs and insults paled in comparison to the sting of the words and actions of her former friends.
What hurt most of all was the behavior of Harry, who would simply avoid Hermione's gaze, and sometimes shoot her a forlorn look. He made a few mustered attempts to speak with her, but each time shied away and retreated back to Ron, Ginny and Lavender. Even Hermione couldn't find it in herself to speak to him.
Finally there was Fleur. Each time Hermione went to visit her at the Manor, the quarter-veela seemed vibrant and healthy, despite the dreariness that surrounded her. Fleur's duties as handmaiden were hardly such at all, as she mostly just accompanied Narcissa on her day-to-day activities, and while for the most part Fleur did not mind, she longed to just be reunited with Hermione once and for all. She was growing weary of Hermione's visits only being relegated to the weekends. And beyond that, the constant Death Eater presence in the household weighed heavily on her. Behind the shield of silencing charms, they would vent their frustrations and emotions during intense bouts of sexual activity. Fleur had grown to like the act of biting, her once gentle nipping now drawing blood on occasion. Strangely, Hermione felt she deserved the pain.
Fleur had been in correspondence with Bill, who recently made progress on convincing Mrs. Weasley to lift the jinx on Shell Cottage. While the news was good, Hermione still felt helpless, the hole she had dug herself into was getting deeper by the day. It was becoming a chasm.
And now here she stood; poised to attack the home of her former friends.
Her reverie was broken when Bellatrix suddenly flew straight through the uppermost floor of the Burrow, the windows exploding outward in a fiery plume. Screams could be heard from within the house as Bellatrix flew in another broad arc to strike the second floor. At that moment several of the cloaked Death Eaters made a run for the front door, led by an unmasked Fenrir Greyback, who kicked open the door with one powerful thrust of his leg. The curses and hexes started flying every which way as the attackers stormed into the cramped house. Bellatrix landed a few meters away from Hermione, still standing in a ready position watching the melee unfold before her. With a flick of her arm, Bellatrix signaled for Hermione to follow her, and the two witches ran in a low crouch to the far side of the house.
The fracas spilled out onto the front lawn, the furious dueling creating a vicious heat that caused the very paint on the side of the house to begin to curl. The heat permeated underneath Hermione's mask burning her skin and she reached up to pull it off only to be halted by the dark witch. "You cannot let them see you! Keep it on!" She hissed. "When we're inside, head straight upstairs!" Tonks and Lupin were viciously dueling Rabastan and Rodolphus a few feet in front of them, and Bellatrix paid them no mind. Hermione had to duck to avoid a stray curse flung astray.
The sprinted through the rear door, entering the dining room. Bellatrix strode proudly toward the large dining room table and climbed up on top of it. A loud cackle echoed off the walls as Bellatrix gleefully shattered all of the nearby china precariously stacked on creaking shelves and kicked flatware off of the table with her pointed boots. Like a child with a sugar high, the dark witch fired a barrage of spells from her wand, reducing the cabinets into a pile of sawdust. Hermione ran through the raining glass and sprinting toward the staircase. Bellatrix continued to laugh and holler, creating utter mayhem in the lower level.
She began her ascent, her boots stomping on each groaning step. Adrenaline coursed through her muscles as she tore upwards. Hermione nearly made it to the top of the landing until a bolt grazed the edge of her hood from behind. She fell hard on her knees, slamming her kneecaps into the edge of the top stair. Tumbling forcefully into the wall she recoiled in pain and curled into a ball, dodging another jinx that burst clear through the wall, sheet rock and wood splinters falling onto her. She scrambled to her feet and continued up the stairs in a full sprint, her body colliding with the walls as the spiral stairs snaked their way upward. Her pursuer was a few short steps behind. She felt for her wand but the thick fabric kept it well hidden.
Reaching the top landing she dove into the first open door she could find, willing it shut and locking it with a spell. The sounds of the battle outside were a dull roar, muffled by the floorboards. Hermione frantically searched for her wand and upon finding it she trained it upon the door that was now being kicked open, the hinges exploding outward from the wall. Through the slits of her mask she stared back at Ginny Weasley, wand aimed at her head. The girl trembled at the sight of the cornered Death Eater. "Get up!" Ginny shrieked, and slowly Hermione rose to full height, her hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "Expelliarmus!" The wand was flung a short distance from her gloved hand. Ginny still kept her own wand pointed at Hermione's chest. "Don't you move. I mean it!" Ginny turned her head to call out through the crack in the door, but as hermione made to get closer, Ginny whipped her head back.
She took a step toward Ginny, the floorboards groaning under her weight. Ginny visibly swallowed and looked over her shoulder and back to face Hermione who had swiftly closed the distance between them. The tip of the redhead's wand was pressed into the fabric of Hermione's robe. She brought her mouth close to Ginny's ear and whispered, "What are you waiting for?" Moving her body even closer, the wands tip was now pressing into the tender skin between her ribs like a dull knife.
"Cr-Cr-crucio!". The bolt connected directly with Hermione's chest, and it felt vaguely like a pinprick. Hermione could only snort and she leaned in once more. "You have to mean it you fool...you are weak..."
With a swift move of her arm she slammed Ginny against the wall, her forearm pressed hard against the other girls neck. The fist of her free arm delivered a brutal blow to Ginny's jaw, whipping the girl's entire head and neck to one side. The girl began to cry. Accio wand! Ginny watched helplessly as the wand slowly returned to Hermione's open palm. Aiming the wand at her former friend she smiled venomously from behind the mask. "Funny how easy you can simply cast others aside with your ignorance...but at the same time fail so miserably at casting a simple curse...might I offer you a, shall we say, refresher course? CRUCIO!"
"PLEASE! STOP! LET ME GO!" Ginny convulsed and shrieked.
Her shaking limbs rattled against the wooden walls. The screams were like music to Hermione's ears and she immediately struck Ginny with another crimson bolt. Throughout the girl's cries of agony, Hermione found herself laughing out loud. She pressed her body firmly against the convulsing one against the wall, bringing her metal lips close to the girl's ear. "I can't imagine to be like you…all of the pain and suffering you put people through…you're lucky…you are not the one the Dark Lord wishes to sacrifice tonight…though next time, things may not be so…providential. Crucio!" Revenge was sweet. The curse only lasted a few seconds, and Ginny had apparently fainted from the pain. "Incarcerous!" The girl was bound tightly. Hermione looked down upon the unconscious Ginny and scoffed, and in one last instant of uncontrollable anger she kicked the body hard in the rib cage. "See you in class!"
She returned to the hallway blindly blasting open each door, searching like a bloodhound for the aged Auror.
Maniacal laughter wafted from above, and Hermione instantly recognized Bellatrix' eager voice through the floorboards. They found their quarry. Following the sounds Hermione reached Ron's old bedroom to find Bellatrix cornering Alastor Moody. The leather-faced man was half lying on the ground on what appeared to be the remains of a chair. The room had been torn to bits, wood and glass littering the floor. Moody was covered in blood, as was the older witch who was bleeding steadily from a brutally split lip.
"Lecherous old man, have you no words now that death stares you down? Tell me now the ministry's security plans for the Jubilee and you'll be spared my wraith!"
The grizzled Auror laughed and hocked a gob of spit on Bellatrix' face. She recoiled on contact. Moody sneered. "Death? Ha! Don't make me laugh devil woman. All I see is a raving lunatic bitch! It was so satisfying seeing you shackled against the wall during all those years in Azkaban. Remember that dontcha...Bella. So very satisfying...watching you waste away and suffer." He continued to laugh madly. "Oh the things we'd make you do for food...you remember that don't you Lestrange? Starve you for a few days and then leash you up like the bitch you are." His words caused the dark witch to go pale, her expression a combination of shame and dread.
Hermione was dumbstruck at what she was hearing. Harry had once referred to this man as 'a sort of uncle'. The ministry celebrated him as a vanquisher of evil. All Hermione could see was a filthy ogre.
She pressed her hands to her ears. "Shut up, shut up, shut up you bastard!" Bellatrix screamed, hitting him with the crimson bolt of the cruciatus curse. He shook for a moment but his laughter did not wane. "Tell me what I want to know!"
Suddenly he spoke in a loud hiss "And how I loved it whenever you'd beg for a change of clothes once I was through with you...". He licked his lips, his magical eye spinning fiendishly in it's casing. "You were delectable in those rags...even more so when I left you naked, and shivering on your cell floor. I'd be stiff in an instant." His words were venomous. "Look at you now...still dressing like a dirty slut." He breathed in deeply through his mangled nose.
She struck him once more, this time he visibly writhed in pain.
"Do your worst. You know that you'll only end up dead…or better yet, back in Azkaban, wouldn't that be nice? The boys will be so happy to see you again." He sneered through his teeth. She hit him with the torture curse again, but it was futile. "I'll tell you nothing you worthless cunt!" Saliva flew from his mouth.
Bellatrix snarled, rearing back to strike at him once more but Hermione was faster. Incarcerous! The ropes appeared out of thin air, wrapping forcefully around Moody's neck. The young witch willed the bindings tighter, twisting his sagging skin and rapidly draining the color from his face.
Hermione nearly tripped as she sprinted to Bellatrix' side, ripping her mask and cloak off in the process. "You monster!" she shouted through burning tears. "You disgusting pig!" Tighter, tighter, tighter! Moody clawed at the ropes around his neck, frantically gasping for air. Bellatrix placed a hand on Hermione's forearm and gave a curt nod. With great difficulty, the brunette willed the curse to stop. Moody drew in a loud gasping breath, his good eye held wide open.
"Granger! With the death eaters...What...why..." The name came between a fight of hacking coughs.
Before Hermione could retort, the Auror swung his wand in a broad sideways arc and screamed the incantation, "Bombarda!" instantly the brunette was struck hard in the side by several exploded glass picture frames, vases, and porcelain platters that had been fastened to the wall; nails and all.
The glass shattered on impact, slicing into her, the enchanted shards ripping through the fabric of her clothes and imbedding in her skin. She crumpled to the ground, blood beginning to ooze out from the myriad of wounds.
Moody laughed once more. "So it all comes full circle. Now you've got the Granger girl under your spell? Ha! You're doomed to fail. The Dark Lord will fall. Whether or not you have the girl on your side. Kill me I'll tell you nothing." He swung his wand a second time and a far off window shattered, the enchanted shards of glass and metal struck Hermione like a hailstorm of darts. She held up her hands in a feeble attempt to shield her face, but the soft skin of her palms were torn to shreds. "Have you grown soft Lestrange? I must admit, it's kind of fun to watch you squirm whilst someone else tortures a mudblood." Suddenly something sharp struck the brunette hard in the chest, accompanied by an explosion of otherworldly pain. For the briefest of moments all of the sounds in the chaotic room suddenly fell mute, drowned out by Hermione's frantic heartbeat. She couldn't hear Bellatrix' screams.
"AVADA KEDAVRA...asshole!". Bellatrix shrieked and Moody's manic laughter ceased with the green bolt striking his chest. He was dead in an instant. Hermione wailed in agony and stumbled blindly around the room before collapsing against a bed. The girl crumpled in a heap, a sizable pool of blood forming around her feet. Bellatrix nearly retched, the girl was covered in large pieces of glass.
Hermione's skin burned.
Burned so badly.
Never had she experienced pain quite like this before. Blood seeped into her eyes, mixing with the tears welling in them. It only made them sting more. She felt as if she had been lit on fire and dunked in acid at the same time. "Bella...". Her words were a wheeze. "Help...me..." Her mangled fingertips pawed at the side of her neck, the skin now gritty with glass powder that rested on it like a fresh dusting of snow. The tip of one of her fingers ripped open as she found a significantly large spike of sharp metal from the window frame impaled through the thin skin above her clavicle. At the gruesome discovery she began to hyperventilate, each precious breath sucking the shard deeper and deeper into her muscle. Bellatrix ran to the girl's side, wincing loudly at the sight of Hermione now looking like a human pincushion. Noticing the quivering dagger of metal jutting out of the girls upper ribcage, Bellatrix wrapped her hands in the fabric of her dress, carefully gripped the top of it with her fingers before trying to yank it out with one hard tug. It failed to even budge before another bloodcurdling scream erupted from Hermione's wrenched lips.
To the dark witch's horror, the shard must have already been rather gnarled when it stabbed through the brunette. It had skewered at a sickening angle into Hermione's chest much like a fish hook. Bellatrix gagged as she felt the jagged spike tear through muscle and graze against the bones inside causing the girl to cry out once more. "Hold on dear..." Hermione felt the familiar sensation of apparition as Bellatrix brought them back to the manor. The appearing in the drawing room with a deafening crack, unwittingly startling Narcissa and Fleur whom were reviewing a ledger containing the Malfoy finances.
Hermione had landed hard on top of the dark witch. The resulting pressure was too great as she promptly rolled over and vomited upon the hardwood floor of the drawing room. Blood continued to seep from her open wounds, saturating the fabric of her clothes. Her head throbbed and her heart beat weakly, the blood loss wreaking havoc on her small body. She attempted to sit up, pressing her open palms on the floor. Quickly she realized this was a poor choice as it had only lodged the glass deeper into her hands and she wailed in utter agony. She could scarcely hear Fleur's screams over her own bloodcurdling wail and she could barely feel Fleur's hands upon her, deftly working to extract Hermione from her shirt.
Her lover spoke in rapid bursts of French. Bellatrix snarled. "Moody did this!" She stalked angrily around the drawing room, tearing at her curls in frustration. Narcissa joined Fleur at Hermione's side, easing the shivering girl onto her back.
"What happened to the poor girl Bella? Did the raid take place in a glass factory? Why is she covered in glass?" Narcissa's words were frantic. "And she's been stabbed!" With careful yet agonizing precision, she had managed to dislodge the large piece of metal from Hermione's chest, and was now attempting to heal the gaping exit wound in girl's neck. Fleur, still muttering in her native tongue, was desperately trying to keep Hermione conscious.
Bellatrix chewed on the tip of her thumb, to the point where it had begun to bleed. "I must go back...have to get the others.". She mumbled, her eyes looking anywhere but at the bloodied girl.
"She needs medical care now Bella!". Narcissa snarled. "Help me get her a healer before she bleeds to death!"
Bellatrix sucked in a deep breath of air, preparing to yell again until a earsplitting CRACK silenced her. A plume of smoke permeated the air and out from the cloud stepped Lord Voldemort. Seconds after the rest of the Death Eaters returned.
Fleur, who had yet to be in the presence of the Dark Lord, cowered slightly, clutching possessively to Hermione's battered frame much like a child and her doll. The dark wizard, paid them no mind as he strode over toward Bellatrix. He reached with one of his yellowed arms and with his gnarled fingers eased a stray curl behind Bellatrix' ear.
"You have done well Bella...the grizzled Auror now lies dead...a hard blow to the Order...and the Ministry." Bellatrix did not respond, her hands held in tight fists at her side, her breaths still coming rapidly. Following her gaze, the Dark Lord's eyes fell upon the downed Hermione, her chest rising and falling very weakly.
Fleur looked up at Voldemort through tear burned eyes, the muscles of her face twitching. "Don't let 'er die...I beg you...don't let 'Ermione die 'ere..." Her words sounded more like a command than a plea. The other hooded people in the room gasped as they watched the blonde stand defiantly to face the serpentine man. She thrusted a finger at his chest. "She could've died tonight! She 'eez your flesh and blood! 'Elp 'er...I know you possess 'zee knowledge...Do 'eet now!." The blonde demanded as her facial features suddenly began to warp, her eyes switching between their normal shape and a more feline one. The orbs were entirely jade in color with a single slit like pupil.
Her fists opened and closed, as her nails began to elongate and grow razor sharp. Fleur fought against the transformation that so desperately wanted to occur, but this seemed to be a losing battle. She let out a cat like hiss. The transformation continued unrelentingly as a pair of massive wings burst outward from the muscles of her back in a tempest of feathers and blood. The shin bones of her legs elongated into muscular haunches that culminated in a pair of clawed paws. Hunched over Hermione's body like an animal, Fleur snarled at the Dark Lord, the sound like the roar of a threatened lioness. Her massive claws dug deep into the wood of the floor as she roared loudly. The Death Eaters all drew their wands and trained them upon the Veela in the center of the room. Greyback stomped one of his boots loudly on the floor, startling the beast, and Fleur began to cross the room with large strides, her dagger like claws unsheathed.
Voldemort, who stood mere feet from where the beast was, did not move, nor did he flinch through Fleur's displays of aggression. Fleur stalked closer to the Dark Lord, eventually leaning in close to his head, her throaty growl filling his ears. "Do 'eet." The Veela showed no fear whatsoever toward the powerful wizard.
The Dark Lord simply pulled out his wand and moved it around in an intricate dance. Bolts erupted from the tip of his wand and Fleur returned to her lover's side. He muttered rapidly to himself in Latin, and the glass turned into water, washing the blood away from Hermione's body. The wounds began to sew themselves shut. Fleur dropped to her knees in exasperation, her body slowly returning to normal. Her wings shed all of their feathers and the two bony appendages shrunk back into her back with excruciating slowness.
Lord Voldemort turned to face Bellatrix. "Come with me, we shall speak alone outside. We have much to discuss."
Bellatrix could only stammer. "But my Lord, Hermione she..."
"NOW BELLATRIX!" He snapped and the dark witch followed behind like a beaten child.
Hermione slipped in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of what had been happening around her. Her once searing pain now a dull ache. Both Narcissa and Fleur lifted her off of the ground, and together the two blonde witches brought her to one of the upper bathrooms of the manor. Stripped bare and dipped into the warm soapy water, Hermione was finally knocked out.
A/N: Woot! 31K views! Amazing! Best Christmas gift a girl could ask for!
A/N2: Have an amazing Holiday, and to all my readers in the UK getting prepared to travel, be safe and I promise to kick the crap out of mother nature if need be.
ttfn, tata for now!