Disclaimer: Neither the story or the characters belong to me, they are the property of J.K. Rowling and Parvati-Blossom. I am just a humble translator who wanted to share this amazing story with all of you.
Warning: This story contains strong language and images. We are dealing with the dark side here! Please keep that in mind.
This chapter includes phrases from works by Goethe. Specifically from Der Erlkönig, Fausto, Roman Elegies, Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship, and Hermman and Dorothea.
Enjoy!
Chapter 15
River Styx
Kingdom of Death
Screams rumbled in her ears, but she was incapable to react. Why should she?
In that darkness that had no beginning or end a mist took shape. Dancing figures held her until a sharp pain returned her from her palsy.
Suddenly there was heat and light; there was meaning. But at the same time, with the recovery of a notion of herself, the suffering doubled all throughout her, but also focused on her chest. She felt her breathing accelerating exponentially, but there was no air to breath. She felt thirsty, so much that her throat seemed to be breaking.
Before her eyes, she found a river. She leaned and stretched her arms to hold in them the solution she desperately needed. The briefest contact with the water revealed the coldness of it. It was such that she was surprised it had not solidified. She stretched again to finally satisfy her need, but some arms pulled her in the opposite direction.
She closed her eyes as she crashed against the marble, and when she opened them, she was aware of the place and of the situation.
She was in the River Styx, for the third time in her life.
She raised her eyes and recognized Salazar Slytherin standing next to her, shaking his robes with disdain, as if when he kneeled and touched her he had dirtied his clothes irreversibly.
"As protocol, in my time, one would thank the person who saved their life. Some would even choose magical debts, which I understand are still in place among you, Mrs. Potter," Salazar said to her looking down at her with comptempt.
"I don't see how you saved my life, Slytherin." She tried to stand up, which was hard considering the pain, thirst, and trembling she was still feeling.
"Technically, it is true I could not have saved you considering you are already dead. In fact, if you had drunk the water from the river, I assure you, you would have lost all connections to your body. You would not feel thirst, pain, and would not be trying to breath as such things are impossible in this place."
Hermione gasped when she felt another sharp pain in her chest. Salazar got closer and surrounded her shoulders with his right arm trying to keep her standing.
"This time I have no other choice but to take you to the Elders."
Without further explanation, he practically dragged her to the imposing doors of the Kingdom of Death. Just like in her previous visit to the mystical territory, her surroundings changed and she found herself in a luxurious room with large decorated windows that projected a red tone and full of furniture worthy of royalty.
Over what looked like a stage, three figures were waiting for her. Unlike the aspect Salazar and she had in that dimension, those figures seemed to have no definite characteristics. At one point she thought she saw blue yes, then brown, and soon black. The same occurred with any facial feature that their long robes allowed her to see.
Salazar walked a few steps more and bowed. She wanted to imitate him, but the pain forced her to the floor.
A few seconds later, she felt in her body a magical current, cold as the water in the River, which reduced everything to pain, thirst, and her breathing.
"Welcome, Hermione. We have been waiting for you."
She stood up once more and wanted to take a few steps back as the three figures, or entities, had surrounded her. She shivered because of the drastic reduction in temperature in the room.
"What are you?" She whispered, somewhere between terrified and marveled.
"They are the Judges," Salazar replied. "Sovereigns of time and space. Governors of the dead and puppeteers of the alive. But if you are referring to their nature… they are manifestations of magic or of the great natural force, volatile, changing, which moves the universe."
"If we could be allowed some identity, I would like to introduce myself as Acheron, Judge of Woe."
"Cocytus, Judge of Wailing."
"Lethe, Judge of Oblivion."
Hermione could not be certain from where their voices came; from outside or inside her soul.
"Inside, my dear. Your element is connected to us directly. It was not a birthright, but our gift," Lethe replied.
"So… this is it…" Hermione whispered. "I'm dead."
"Yes, you are." Cocytus said.
"Have I fulfilled my mission? Will I be judged now?"
"We didn't think you were so concerned for the mission," Acheron hissed. "But yes, you have fulfilled it. At least, temporarily."
"Temporarily?"
Salazar laughed, seemingly entertained by the dialogue. The Judges produced a sound close to a groan, but he did not stop laughing. With a charming smile, he walked to Hermione and took her hands, sharing his warmth."
"Filldeserp has won, dear. He has deceived the Elders. He has changed the destiny of the world. A mortal has dethroned the eternal Judges!" The joy was shining in his eyes. "The Slytherin Empire will rise soon in the mortal and immortal worlds. They thought you had accomplished your mission, but you failed, Hermione! You failed because you put too much effort! You failed because you obtained great results!"
The Judges tried to get closer to the two of them, probably to interrupt Salazar's speech, but something was keeping them feet away.
"What's going on?" Hermione said with alarm.
"They can't touch you," Salazar whispered in her ear, still with a hint of mischief. "Because you're not entirely dead. You're still under Her domain."
"Her?"
"Death, the administrator of the souls that wander…" Slytherin smirked. "Do you remember the deal Filldeserp made with Her?"
Hermione watched the Judges, then Slytherin, and she understood.
The deal Filldeserp made with Death had been to save her. That was why Salazar had stopped her from drinking from the Styx, something that evidently every permanent guest of the Kingdom had to do to cut all connection to the temporal world. She was not alive, but she was not dead yet. Consequently, the pains of her mortal body continued to bother her, but she was able to access the River. Somehow, she could still return to her body and life.
"How can I go back?" She asked Salazar. He shook his head.
"There is nothing you can do while you are here… except staying away from the water of the Styx, of course. It is Filldeserp who has to guide you back to him."
"How…"
"Ah, Hermione," Salazar chuckled. "He will have to pay Death that which he promised… his soul when he dies."
"What? What kind of price is that? No!"
"Foolish girl!" The wizard's expression abandoned all trace of satisfaction. "That sacrifice will allow Filldeserp to finally defeat the Judges. He will never be under their control again. It is true, when he dies he will become a Dementor… but he has to die first, doesn't he?"
"No! I rather die! Take me to the Styx!" She attempted to release herself from Slytherin's arms to walk to the Judges, but she failed. He threw her to the ground and immobilized her.
"If you die, everything you love will be destroyed!" Salazar's eyes glowed like fire, a result of his exasperation, anger, and insanity. "By the hands of your husband! He will first destroy everything that was remotely related to your death! He will rip apart his enemies with unimaginable cruelty! He then… will destroy his mentor. He will rise as the most powerful Dark Lord the world has ever seen… but he will not have any ideals. Everyone will fear him! The balance will be restored, but magic… chaotic and unstable… will not seek humans again."
As Salazar predicted the events, blurry images and flashed filled Hermione's mind. She could smell the blood in a battlefield. She could feel the heat of the fire destroying the British Ministry of Magic. She heard Harry's and Voldemort's voices battling and arguing, fulfilling the prophecy… and the sour taste of a revenge that could not repair the void the loss had caused. She witnessed the deaths of each one of her friends, of her fellow aurors, of allied death eaters; but above everything, she could not stand watching Harry falling apart, losing his magic, his element, his ideals… and himself.
"I can't believe you! Why would the Judges want such destruction?" She exclaimed, desperate, wishing to stop the images.
"Life cycles, Hermione!" Salazar yelled, taking her back to reality. "For them, wizards have reached their end. Your mission was great… to cause the extinction of our race!"
"I cannot agree to Harry giving his soul away for me…" She said, sobbing and embracing herself, still on the ground.
"Don't you understand? Not only for you! For your descendants! For the magical world! For him! Do you want to see how little by little he is consumed? I will make you watch every instant, I swear it, Granger! You will not find peace in this world if you agree to the Judges' plan!" He spat at her, with disbelief. "Choose quickly, mudblood. Will you allow him to sacrifice himself for you and save the magical world? Or will you renounce the possibility to live, and magic?"
In the same way she had seen the planned world she was able to see the other possibility, although those visions were less clear and brief. She saw herself holding a baby; Sheila and Harry hugging each other; an incredible explosion; Phinehas holding Harry; a circle of men in black robes leaning with reverence…
She cried for the happiness that future promised unlike the other. She cried for that difficult decision which could save the world, but not them. Not Harry. She cried wishing magic had never existed and for them to just be simple muggles in London.
But she could not wish it hard enough. She remembered her first experience with her element, in the gardens of the Fortress; the freedom and freshness of being herself, one and everything, that magic had given her. She also recalled the lessons Filldeserp gave her on magic, and every occasion she had seen her element manifest…
The understanding of that love, of that dedication and total deliverance, of that dream and the imminent destructive creation, cleared her uncertainty.
She looked at Salazar in the eyes and he reduced the hold he had on her to help her stand up. The dark wizard nodded with solemnity, accepting her decision and respecting the weight she would have to carry for the rest of her existence.
Hermione walked to the Judges and smiled.
Dumbledore had been right. The key to salvation lied in love.
Home of the Lupin family
February 6th, 2005
Time: 8:50PM
Remus opened the door and entered after levitating Hermione's body through the entryway. The hall was dark and empty. He turned on the light to prevent any missteps and he walked to the first floor. The wooden steps cracked underneath him. He soon heard steps and saw Tonks leaving their bedroom, with a wand in her hand and on alert. As soon as she saw him,her body relaxed and wanted to hug him, but she was paralyzed when she noticed Hermione.
If he had not been so busy levitating Hermione Remus would have ran to hold Tonks as he was sure she would faint. The fear in her eyes confirmed everything had changed that night.
"Remus… what…?"
"I'm sorry, Tonks. I'll explain. Let me take her to the room…"
"No!" She shook her head frantically. "What have you done? Filldeserp will not take long finding you, Remus! I can't believe you would risk Hannah like this!"
"You don't understand, Nymphadora! Hermione is dead!"
"And with more reason you should have gotten rid of her, Remus!"
"He asked me, Tonks… I couldn't…"
"He isn't Harry anymore, Remus! He is not the boy you promised James, Lily and Sirius you would protect! He is a Dark Lord! I thought you had accepted that…" And after slamming the door, Tonks locked herself in their room.
Remus bit his lip, overwhelmed by frustration and impotence. Even if he had not rationally made his decision, the wolf inside of him would have. He longed to help his cub; he could not abandon his pack… But he knew it was greater than that.
It was not about two opposite sides of enemies. It was about two human beings facing the death of a loved one.
He entered the guest room and placed Hermione's body on the bed. He then applied different charms to preserve her body and sat next to her. He took his hands to his face and wished he could cry.
That night, the side of the light had not won; they had marked their defeat. Filldeserp did not have political reasons to attack them anymore. Now, he would be guided by a personal vendetta. Remus knew that pain and the impulse it gave. He had experienced it before with the deaths of James and Lily, and later with Sirius.
He hesitated, but he caressed Hermione's cheek. He wished he could talk to her about Harry. He wished he could know what kind of man he had become behind the image of a Dark Lord. He wished he knew the truth about the time following her "rescue." He would have slept in peace, at least for a few months, knowing Harry was still alive.
"I wonder why you didn't share your hope with me, Hermione."
His hand stopped on her neck. He thought he felt her pulse…
He stood up abruptly.
There was a pulse.
He shakily walked to the wall, from where he tried to find some balance. He had seen the Avada Kedavra. It had been authentic.
The door opened revealing Filldeserp. Remus let out a gasp, still in shock. The dark wizard, on the other hand, only raised an eyebrow and went to his wife, sitting on the mattress.
"She's alive," the werewolf whispered.
"Not completely, but enough," Filldeserp replied.
"How's that possible?"
Filldeserp turned to look at him with a dark smile on his face. The mark that he had previously noticed was still there, dark and disgusting, almost mocking him.
"Dark magic, of course."
"Necromancy?" Remus guessed.
"Not exactly."
He placed his hands on Hermione's womb and closed his eyes, whispering in a different language. Remus instinctively knew he should remain a few steps away. Fire came out of Harry's hands, which was absorbed by her body. Filldeserp's mark glowed and he moaned, slightly shaking above Hermione, who was starting to recover some color.
After a few minutes, Filldeserp straightened up, although Remus noticed some sweat and an obvious expression of pain.
"What did you do?"
"I have given her some of my magic. Hers would not have been able to protect…" His voice died as he caressed his wife's womb.
"She was…? She is pregnant?" Filldeserp nodded. "And the child… survived?"
"Yes." He gasped and took a hand to his right shoulder.
"Are you hurt?" Remus could not himself this time and walked toward Filldeserp. He chuckled as he watched his expression.
"I can take care of myself, Lupin."
Remus then remembered who he was and took a step back, aware of his foolish mistake. Nevertheless, Filldeserp's expression was calm and he stood up to be face to face with his old professor.
"I am thankful, Remus, for your help. May magic be witness of the debt I take with this vow. You, and your family, will always be protected by my wand and welcomed in my home."
The werewolf felt the current of magic that bonded him with Filldeserp in astonishment. He examined how the fierceness of that dark wizard transformed in the smile of the son of his best friends, and he wanted to cry again, but for different reasons.
"You were in the right place at the right time, Remus," Harry said with a soft laugh. "I would not have been able to ask this favor to any of my close allies as I needed them in the battle. I needed to be with Hermione quickly to save her and my child, absolutely… but I could not abandon my people…" He looked at him directly in the eyes. "I understand you won't be able to return to the Order after this."
"Such a pity! I'm sure you're very sorry about that," Tonks interrupted them, walking toward them with anger. "Now we have to be under your protection, oh, my good sir!"
"Nymphadora!"
"Do not use that name, Remus! Don't tell me you've fallen for the boy's acting. He is a murderer! I should kill him right now!" The threat was not empty. The auror was holding her wand.
Remus was pale and stood between his wife and Harry, fearing for her life. But his guest did not do anything. He did not hold his wand, or took any offensive stance. In fact, he extended his arms, welcoming her.
"I can't attack you, Tonks. Thanks to my vow, you have the possibility. Go ahead."
Tonks' hand trembled, but she did not say a word. She also did not lower her hand.
"Dear, stop. Please," Remus begged her.
For a few moments of tension he thought she would cast the curse. Her eyes were full of hatred and suffering, probably remembering every horrible deed that man had been involved in and had directly caused; every partner dead from those same events.
But she lowered her wand.
"You have another debt with Remus now," Tonks muttered. "Only because your death would destroy him. He cares about you more than you deserve, monster."
February 7th, 2005
Time: 12:15PM
He sighed, leaning against the wall. Too many things had gone wrong.
They had temporarily lost the Fortress, even if the side of the light had not been able to reach the building. They could not return until they created new barriers that would nullify the coordinates the Ministry and the Order had of their location.
He had almost lost Hermione and their child, only because he had no one to trust to keep her safe from the attack in a different location… and because she had been stubborn. He would have wasted precious time arguing with her, but he regretted not doing so.
He had failed keeping Cecilia and the Lukyans safe.
The spy had been unmasked and finally confirmed, but the cost had been too high.
Harry embraced himself, trying to fight against the cold inside of him and that would be with him until he fulfilled the pact. His soul had been permanently damaged. He would never know eternal rest, nor would ever join the infinite circle of magic. When he died, he would become a dreadful and wandering creature.
He did not regret it. For her, he would do it again. But he was not sure how soon fate would consume what he had suspected; good times did not last long.
He had healed his battle wounds already. He had contacted Anthony to verify the general situation of the allies in numbers and deaths, and to provide instructions. However, he could not be involved yet. Hermione had to remain in a stable location until she was awake.
He had also tried to communicate with Voldemort through their mental connection, but he remained out of reach, occupied by some mysterious affairs in Germany with Phinehas. He could speculate his anger over the news and preferred not to insist until he could stand the recriminations.
He chuckled with impatience. The exhausting was defeating him, but he could not lower his guard in that place. Even if Tonks had assured him she would not kill him, he was not willing to tempt his luck, which was already bad from the previous day. He decided to explore the house to entertain himself.
On his way to the staircase, he heard some moaning. Unusually curious, he carefully opened the door and found a bedroom with a crib and a baby theme. Carefully, he approached it.
There was a baby girl.
He observed her in detail. In a few months, he would be the father of such a being. The idea inspired certain fear and insecurity in him. Never in his life had he been in contact with toddlers, except when he had been one himself. He was engaging, perhaps, in what could be the hardest task of his life.
He frowned when he noticed something in the girl's aura. He was convinced she was too young to be able to manifest magic. However…
He stepped back when an idea flourished in his mind. Had she inherited her father's lycanthropy? Pure werewolves were rare as it tended to be a recessive gene, especially with a mother who was primarily a pureblood. But the possibility existed.
He extended a hand to touch the girl to compare soul to soul when Tonks entered the room.
"Get away from her!" She screamed, running to him and pushing him aside. "Get out of here! Haven't you ruined our lives enough? Don't touch her!"
Harry was astounded by such reaction. He would have expected such fierceness from Remus, given that his werewolf instincts would cause him to protect his daughter, but not of Nymphadora. Although it was not completely surprising. But it was suspicious.
"Tonks… is that girl… perhaps…?"
"Get out of here, I've said!"
"I won't hurt her! Is she a werewolf?"
Tonks lost color after his question. She started to shake and suddenly lost the ability to speak.
At that moment, Remus entered the room.
"Hermione is awake!"
Harry immediately forgot all his worries about the baby and walked to the guest room. He breathed in relief, feeling that everything was right again, when he saw Hermione conscious on the bed and smiling weakly at him. He held her tight and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her eyes, and her lips with insatiable longing.
He only separated enough to look at her in the eyes. She was crying.
"Never, never, sacrifice yourself for me again. Do you understand, Hermione?" She shook her head, intensifying her tears.
"The one who shouldn't have sacrificed his soul is you, Harry."
He stepped away from her, suddenly out of words.
"How did you…"
"You'll be a dementor! How could you think I would want that?" Tonks and Remus, who had remained in a corner, let out a gasp.
"But you also chose it." Harry smiled with bitterness, holding Hermione's hands. "You could have chosen to die in the Styx. But you are here."
"What other choice did I have?" She replied, furious by the way he had exposed the circumstances. "You would have ended worse than a dementor if I had died! And the extinction of magic…!"
By Filldeserp's expression she knew he was unaware of such consequences. But she was not able to hold back.
"You would have taken every single drop of magic from humans! You would have become a true monster, without scrupulous, without goals! You would have murdered even Voldemort… all because of my death! Don't deny it!" Hermione yelled when she detected the incredulity in his stance. "I saw everything. Because of me, because of my intruding, you would have become the most feared Dark Lord in history!"
"The prophecy…" Harry's expression darkened to the discovery and he laughed, maniacally. Even Hermione was afraid by the eccentricity she saw in his eyes. "Dumbledore was right! The weapon Voldemort never knew… love! And its loss…" His laugh grew louder, but it lacked any humor. "What a divine fate the Judges had for me…"
"Stop! Stop! Harry, you're scaring me!" She exclaimed, placing her hands on the shoulders of her husband to stop his laugh, but a sharp pain stopped her.
"It was the baby…" Harry's expression was full of worry.
"I had already given enough magic so it didn't have to take more from you. I don't understand…" He bit his lip and closed his eyes, massaging his temple. "A healer should look at you immediately. But we can't stay here…"
"If it's because of us, Harry…" Remus interrupted him, overwhelmed by the hurricane of events.
"No. The Order knows where you live, Remus… Someone must have seen you with me. They might be busy right now taken care of the wounded, but they won't take long regrouping and attacking," he stopped, planning their next steps. "You should also disappear. The Ministry will want to try you as an accomplice…"
"Dumbledore…" Tonks wanted to interrupt.
"Dumbledore can't do anything about prejudice to werewolves, Nymphadora," Harry interrupted her. "He won't even get a trial."
"We can't know it until we try. I won't run like a cowardly rat," Tonks determined stubbornly.
"You can't ask them to abandon their lives for us, Harry," Hermione intervened when he was about to insist on their escape. "Nobody can deny the possibility of an Imperio over Remus, which would have made him cooperate with you instead of eliminating you."
"That's an interesting alternative, but…" They would never hear Harry's reasoning as it was stopped by an explosion at the entrance.
Everyone raised their wands, except Hermione who could barely move. While Remus and Tonks ran to collect Hannah, Harry helped her stand up, although not paying much attention, focused on working out the problems and solutions in his mind.
"Hermione, do you still have the medallion?"
"Of course!" She looked under her clothes and showed it to Harry, whose face was extremely pale.
"No property of the Slytherin family is safe right now… the death eaters are being looked after there, just like the rest of our allies…" Harry sighed, tired and concerned. "I must send you via portkey to that place… there's no other solution."
"What? I won't leave without you!"
"We've already had this conversation once less than twenty-four hours ago, Hermione! I have no more souls to offer for you!" He yelled, exasperated. "I won't risk you again… I have to protect Tonks and Remus. I swore it."
"I'm sorry… I didn't want to…" She whispered lowering her head, remembering the cost of her stubbornness. Harry kissed her and gave her a sad smile.
"I don't regret it. I want you to always remember it." He waved his wand over the medallion and returned it. "You will be received by the house-elves. Say portus."
Hermione looked at him one last time and repeated his instruction, disappearing.
Tonks and Remus were waiting for him by the staircase. The girl was still sleeping peacefully in her mother's arms, although Harry could detect several defensive charms on her.
"What do you want to do? They are your allies," Harry asked glancing at the main door, which still held thanks to the magical protections that had activated in the house.
"You could remain hidden… we could argue we were under an Imperio, or under the threat of Hannah's death… If they allow us to defend ourselves, then, we won't need your help," Remus proposed. As a reply, the dark wizard shrugged.
"Useless, but we can try."
"Filldeserp, no matter what, above everything else, protect Hannah. Please," Tonks begged her. Surprised by the auror's ability to overcome her pride, he nodded.
He used advanced charms to make himself invisible and imperceptible to everyone else, and he placed himself in a strategic position by the main door which not only would allow him to observe the development of the conflict, but it would also help him intervene more easily. Tonks took a defensive stance in the hall, while Remus put his hand away where he could easily retrieve it, and opened the door to welcome his friends.
Present at a probable historical moment for the Order of the Phoenix were Dumbledore, Shacklebolt, McGonagall, Dawlish, Moody, and Hagrid. Filldeserp smiled, grasping his wand firmly, guessing the result of the conversation. There were not enough mugs in the kitchen to serve tea for everyone anyway.
"Remus, good evening. We are sorry to disrupt you at this time but, could we come in?" Dumbledore greeted him, as if the explosion against the door had not occurred.
"Of course, come in."
Filldeserp wondered if perhaps he should change the methods of attack. Instead of surprisingly invading a home and murder his enemies instantly, he should ask for permission, exchange some pleasantries with his victims, and then reveal his intentions. A social visit gone wrong, just that.
After a not pleasant greeting from Tonks, Dumbledore returned his attention to the werewolf.
"We know you provided refuge for Filldeserp, Remus."
He thought it a bad way to start. At least, they should have brought cookies and waited to be invited to the table. But perhaps the lack of sleep had affected Dumbledore's good manners… or Remus had lowered considerably in his list of best friends.
"It was not of our own choice. He… knew the coordinates to our home… he knew about Hannah!" Lupin looked at Tonks and his daughter with apparent anxiety.
"Lupin, your shields are impenetrable if the intruder has any ill intentions for your family," Moody accused him. "They are the best barriers the Order has been able to provide."
Filldeserp considered such information… definitely interesting.
"That was not a guarantee. I couldn't…!"
"Remus," McGonagall stopped him with a tone that Filldeserp clearly remembered. "I think everyone in the order knows your weakness for Harry Potter. Admit it and don't humiliate yourself with empty justifications."
"Yes, it's true, Filldeserp was here," Tonks confessed. "But not anymore."
All the members of the Order relaxed to her sincerity, except Dumbledore and Moody. The last one was examining the house with both eyes, while the older man was looking at the couple with severity, even some sorrow, guessing the betrayal.
Filldeserp then remembered a detail he had not consulted with his hosts…
Occlumency.
He slid down the staircase before Dumbledore's spell impacted at the place he had been hiding. He removed the invisibility, as the extra expense of energy would work against him, and exclaimed sarcastically to Moody.
"Surprise!"
Every wand focused on him.
Opposite to the reaction he expected from Dumbledore, the headmaster was horrified when he saw the visible mark on his cheek. So much that he did not utter a word for several seconds. Harry could even swear he had seen tears in his blue eyes.
"What have you done, Harry?" He asked, deeply inconsolable.
"Well, to begin with, I snuck out and faced a troll. I then attacked a professor, but that was on self-defense. I also defeated a basilisk. Oh, and I helped a fugitive escape his sentence. I participated in Voldemort's resurrection… I destroyed several valuable items in the Ministry, urged by the need to save my godfather… I practiced dark magic… betrayed all of my friends and acquaintances… and those are just my first seventeen years! Your question should be more specific, Dumbledore," Filldeserp mocked him.
"You know what I mean, Harry," the old man reprimanded him as if he was a student. "Why have you done it? What could be worth so much?"
He was surprised by the insight Dumbledore had on the subject, or at least his ability to fake it. He had believed nobody in the side of the light would recognize the implications of the mark on his skin. Only the eternal subjects of Death wore such a mark. It was a symbol of slavery.
"Perhaps… power?" Filldeserp replied with irony.
"No, you know it is not worth it," Albus disagreed, examining him. His eyes suddenly twinkled. "Where is Hermione's corpse?"
"I have cremated her, as the circle of magic demands." He sneered and took an indifferent expression. "I am sorry about the time I wasted in her, but I will not grieve the death of that mudblood…"
He jumped against the wall to avoid the hit Hagrid had thrown. The giant was shaking, red and contrite.
"How can you say that about Hermione? Your best friend! Is that the kind of creature without feelings you've become, Harry?" Hagrid attacked, clearly betrayed. "Mudblood! Don't you remember when you hated Malfoy every time he said those words to her? At what point did you change into… into… this? Or did you always lie to us?"
He got the answer he was expecting. Hagrid, always so impulsive and predictable…
But Dumbledore continued to observe him with suspicion.
He could not allow for him to know about Hermione.
"It was not hard, Hagrid," he answered. "Do you know anyone completely and genuinely? We all have our dark secrets…"
Dumbledore took a step forward and stopped the giant's actions with incredible reflexes for his age.
He had tried with words, but it had not worked. Remus could not accuse him of not being patient.
He threw a cruciatus at Dumbledore, unleashing hell.
The old man avoided the curse, but as much as he insisted, he could not stop the response from his companions. Remus and Tonks remained on the side, not knowing well in which side they belonged, while Filldeserp countered every attack thrown at him.
It had been a long day, but he should not have complained so soon. He had attracted bad luck.
Everything was going well, with superficial wounds spread on almost every combatant, when one of Filldeserp's spell was reflected by a shield and impacted Remus. The punishment of the vow reduced him to the floor with an effect worse than the cruciatus. He accepted the imminent defeat and mentally prepared himself to be apprehended by the Order. Voldemort would definitely not be pleased by the news.
But to his defense had come Tonks.
"Come, bastard, get up already!" She called him, withstanding with a good shield.
"Tonks! What are you doing?" Shacklebolt asked, representing everyone's incredulity, including Filldeserp's.
"There are things beyond good and evil, Kingsley. And apparently… Filldeserp is one of them," Tonks replied.
"That is a better answer than what any of my allies could have given," Fildleserp praised her, standing up again.
"Get used to it."
Remus joined them, causing another wave of reproach.
"I thought we would never be in the same side of a battle again, you and I," Remus confessed to Filldeserp. He laughed, probably influenced by the adrenaline of the duel, while he covered his back.
"I am too charming, I'm sorry. Do you still want to reason with the Order?"
"No, we are exposing Hannah… Suggestions?"
"Would you like to visit Frankfurt, Remus?"
Godric's Hollow
The Potter Cottage
Time: 2:30AM
He apparated into the hall. Silence and shadows welcomed him.
Logically, visiting the home of his dead biological parents was the best way to close that long and inopportune day. The cherry on top.
He lit the room and sat down enervated on a couch after taking some time to touch the furniture with the tips of his fingers and observing the frozen figures in the portraits.
He had promised not to return.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was still hurting.
He pushed aside those heavy memories for the time being. There were more important things to attend.
The dead had nothing to communicate to him anyway.
He entered the main room. He breathed in relief when he saw Hermione sleeping peacefully. He had feared she was still suffering the pain or needing magic.
Exhausted by the long day he had lived, he lay down next to her and attempted to relax his hurting muscles. His head was pounding with an intense headache. His shoulder still hurt from the wound at the battle in the Fortress.
Nevertheless, he still could not fall asleep. Voldemort had finally answered his mental call hours before.
'Filldeserp, what is wrong?'
He would have screamed in frustration. Had something not gone wrong?
'The Contact revealed our location. The Order and the Ministry attacked the Fortress.'
'I trust they were not successful.'
'No, but they possess our coordinates.'
'That is a complication… where are you now? At the western headquarters?'
'No. Hermione was killed by the Contact. I had to call forth my pact with Death… I did not want to expose her to the death eaters so soon.'
'Where are you, then?'
He took a deep breath and cleared his mind. That information would not please Voldemort.
'Godric's Hollow.'
Silence. Then, the scar on his forehead burned. He had forgotten the effects Voldemort's anger could have over him during those mental conversations. He had not missed it.
'You swore you would not return.'
'It was an emergency.'
He felt like a child being reprimanded for playing with a toy that was not his. Or perhaps a better allegory would be choosing a vacation between two divorced parents. In either of those circumstances he was no longer a boy and Voldemort's recrimination irritated him. After so many years, he deserved some trust.
'Were you able to discover something about that prophecy?'
'Plenty. However, as usual, it was all ambiguous. I will be there with Phinehas by noon to plan the reorganization of the death eaters.'
A hurried return. He apparently would not let him spend much time with his memories. The situation with the death eaters was not urgent.
'I will make sure you have access.'
Filldeserp closed the mental connection abruptly fearing that the questioning would go until sunrise. He needed to rest, but above all, he needed to strategize.
The clock was ticking slowly. The options lingered, however, with unchangeable patience.
And he now knew how to stop the clock.
Time: 10:00AM
The perfect way to wake up every morning.
"Mistress! Mistress! It's time to wake up!" Folly cried with energy, opening the windows to show Hermione that, in fact, the sun was up high. She moaned and pulled the blanket above her head to reduce the sun's effect. "Master Filldeserp is waiting for you to have breakfast, mistress! You don't want to make him wait, do you?"
Hermione would have wished to say yes, but the house-elf was looking at her with her arms on her waist and an expression that did not leave room for a response. If she did not get up soon, she was sure the elf would drag her to the kitchen. Humiliating.
After she got ready she walked down the stairs to the dining room. Folly had not lied. Harry was waiting at the table with his eyes lost on a picture, apparently awaiting her presence. He greeted her with a kiss and she felt an increase in the intensity of the color of his eyes.
They did not speak for a few minutes. They started breakfast after thanking Folly for her efforts. She tried to start a conversation but she hesitated, uncertain about the gravity of the situation.
"Are you all right? Do you feel anything odd? Any pain?" Harry asked as he casually spread some jam on toast.
"No. I feel…" she struggled to find the right word "…normal."
Harry nodded, practically without looking at her.
"A healer will come this afternoon," he announced. "Unless you feel well enough?" He inquired again, but this time with his green eyes looking at her directly. When she did not correct his statement, he finally seemed convinced. "There were many death eaters injured in the battle. That is why, if not urgent, it is better if the healers continue their work on them."
"Were there many deaths?" She asked, uncomfortable with her husband's distance.
"Some," he answered vaguely.
Hermione set her attention on the tea. Even if Filldeserp was not saying it, she guessed he felt saddened by the deaths of his followers, the guilt and anger of that partial defeat.
Pondering how to approach the questions in her mind she observed the painting Harry had been looking at before she entered the room.
She let the toast in her hand fall when she recognized the people in the photograph. They were James and Lily Potter, who was holding a baby in her arms. The happiness glowed in their eyes as they both played with the baby boy.
"Is this… Godric's Hollow?" Hermione whispered not able to take away her eyes from those people.
"Yes," Harry answered.
"But… wasn't the house destroyed… that night?"
"Partially, yes," he answered, drinking some tea. "But I had it rebuilt during the summer before our seventh year at Hogwarts. I needed…" He stopped. Hermione thought he would not say more, but he sighed after his pause and continued. "A sanctuary where to remember them… Especially during that period of transition."
"I don't think Voldemort liked that very much," Hermione commented with a hint of a smile.
"No, of course not," he said with a smirk. "But he had to allow me a personal space to think, didn't he?" He laughed with some bitterness. "When I decided to join Voldemort, I came here. A last goodbye to my past." He looked at the photograph again and his eyes seemed to lose their shine. "I decided they did not matter. They were dead. I was not. And that was it. I swore not to return. And here we are." His laugh scared Hermione a little. It sounded broken.
"You're alive thanks to their sacrifice," she interrupted him hurt. "Did that… not matter as well?"
"No, Hermione." His tone was sharp that time. "I decided not to live under the shadow of their sacrifice. I could not be what they had been, and if they had wanted me to live, then, I imagine they would have wanted me to do so under my own choices. I know they would not be proud of me, more like embarrassed or horrified. Perhaps, if they had known who I would become, they would have let me die. But if one has to live, they have to do so for what they believe. They were victims of one war. I am part of another."
Hermione had no reply.
She looked at the photograph again, that ghostly past, and smiled with sadness.
"They would have died, even if they had known you would join Voldemort," she guaranteed him with a hand on her belly. She would do it for her child as well.
Harry watched her with a soft smile on his face. He had given more than his life for them. He had offered his soul and eternity.
He surprised her when he took the hand she had on her womb and took it to his lips to kiss it. Hermione was stunned to the sudden banishment of all coldness and because of the warmth of his gestures. He seemed like a different man: younger, freer… happier.
Just like it had appeared, the magic banished when they heard steps at the entrance. The mask returned and his body tensed while Folly hurried to welcome their visitors.
As if he had just arrived to the Fortress and not to the rural town where he had murdered the parent of his heir, and with his typical arrogance and elegance, Voldemort entered, followed by count Phinehas. The scene would have been amusing if Hermione had not felt her throat gone dry, or the sudden need to turn every picture of the deceased Potters so they did not have to see the future.
Voldemort walked to Filldeserp who had stood up. Hermione thought he would hug him, but they only exchanged pleasantries like two strangers. Phinehas, instead, was warmer in his conduct toward the heir, smiling enthusiastically and giving him a pat on the shoulder, congratulating him for the excellent defense of the Fortress.
"Hermione," was Voldemort's calm greeting. "I trust you have recovered satisfactorily from your… adventure?"
"I am moved by your concern, my lord," Hermione replied after a mocking bow. She noticed Filldeserp's gaze and did not say more, just nodding.
"I see you did not forget your insolence by the River," Voldemort replied. "Such a pity."
"Oh, but I know that's what you like best about me," she said. "Every day you look forward to this. Some surprise in your monotonous life as a Dark Lord. By the way, how was your trip to the Caribbean? I am sure you did not have as good time as Harry and I had defending the Fortress, right?"
"Hermione," her husband interrupted her with a cold tone.
"It's shocking how every time there's a conflict, the Dark Lord is not available," she continued, ignoring the warning. "Sometimes I wonder if you have a sensor for these things…"
"You have such a passionate wife, Lord Filldeserp," Phinehas commented, highly entertained by the spectacle.
"Forgive us for a moment, please," Filldeserp excused them, taking Hermione's arm and pulling her to the kitchen.
Folly, who was cleaning the dishes while humming a song, squealed when she saw them. But Filldeserp barely looked at her, only indicating with a gesture for her to continue with her tasks. Although her master's fury was not directed at her, she started shaking and took several minutes calming down.
Hermione, on the other hand, was not as easily intimidated. She raised her chin and looked at him in the eyes, willing to defend herself from any accusation.
"Dammit, Hermione!" He yelled, absolutely frustrated. "Don't you know you have to pick your fights to win the war? You can't be this stubborn!"
"He didn't even ask how you were doing!" She yelled as reply. "He returns triumphantly as if nothing had happened… your soul, Harry! Can't he show…?"
"Hermione, he's Voldemort! Did you want him to hug me? In my parents' home?" Highly upset, he took his hand to his temple, trying to calm his breathing and his nerves. "You must stop these confrontations. One day it will be beyond me and…" he looked at her, maddened. "I can't always be there for you, Hermione."
She lowered her eyes feeling miserable.
"Let's go back," Harry proposed.
Phinehas and Voldemort had already sat at the table. After another apology, Harry took his place and Hermione imitated him. She avoided looking or talking directly at Voldemort, but she noticed the vengeful satisfaction on his face when she glanced at him. She felt humiliated, but she had to contain herself.
Harry was still watching her.
"We stopped by headquarters before we came here," Voldemort informed them. "The consequences have not been unmanageable. The partial discovery of the Fortress is the gravest one."
"Dymtrus is dead," Filldeserp announced. "De Santos has recovered his daughter."
"What about the bond between you and the girl?" Phinehas asked.
"She is still close, I suspect at the Order's headquarters," the heir replied. "She will be moved soon, and then it will be a complication."
"Why?" Hermione intervened puzzled.
"You should know already," Filldeserp whispered, still bothered by her attitude. "I am her mentor. If she is not with me or with people I trust, marked by my element, the bond between us… well, it is not pleasant and it increases with time and distance. Especially for her."
"And whoever is with her," Voldemort added, smiling with cruelty. "Then, the Spanish managed to enter the Fortress?"
"Before the attack," Filldeserp confirmed.
"As such, they had many objectives," Voldemort deduced. "To recover the girl, take possession of the Fortress…"
"And to eliminate Filldeserp," Hermione added. Voldemort raised an eyebrow.
"I thought us, the Dark Lords, were always in mortal peril," he said sarcastically.
"A death eater betrayed you," Hermione elaborated. "He wanted to kill Filldeserp."
"She did," Voldemort corrected. "The same woman who gave away an entrance through our barriers."
"How could she know something like that?" Hermione questioned. "Isn't that magic extremely advanced?"
"We gave her the information, indirectly, of course," Filldeserp replied with indifference. "We needed to prove her identity."
"Then… you knew of the attack?" She asked confused.
"No." The statement seemed to hurt Voldemort. "She has had the resources with her for some time. We believed she would act sooner, but… she chose the perfect moment."
"That is why we are analyzing her objectives. Among them has to be the reason behind her betrayal… and the choice of that moment," Filldeserp said. "It is irrelevant for practical purposes, as the end will be the same, but it was a peculiar circumstance."
"What happened to Remus?" Hermione asked, remembering suddenly the events of the night before. Filldeserp watched her surprised, holding her hand under the table.
"Lupin? Hermione, do not ask me about the members of the Order," he answered in disgust. "If you are so interested, go and ask your dear Dumbledore."
Voldemort observed the exchange suspiciously, but as soon as Dumbledore was named, his attention was turned to other business.
"Some members of the Order bothered us during our visit to Germany," with emphasis on his tone, Voldemort looked at Hermione significantly. "Some lost pests."
"Were you able to learn anything about the prophecy?" Filldeserp questioned, rolling his eyes to the daily provocation.
"The prophetess who gave it lives in the mountains of Harz…" Phinehas pointed out.
"Harz? Is it not there where they celebrate Walpurgis?" Filldeserp asked with a frown.
"Walpurgis?" Hermione asked again.
"It is a traditional festivity for wizards," Phinehas answered with a condescending tone. "An equivalent of Halloween… just especially celebrated by dark wizards and creatures. She should accompany you to the next festival, Filldeserp. You would enjoy it!"
"It is not the kind of celebration which would please Hermione, Phinehas," Filldeserp pointed out, laughing. To her expression, he clarified. "Orgies and muggle sacrifices are very popular…"
"Do not be alarmed if you don't see us this year, count Phinehas," Hermione intervened. "Or the next. Or the following one. Possibly, never." To her determination, the three men laughed.
"You can stay home if you want, dear, but I am a Dark Lord. My attendance is almost required," her husband commented, still laughing.
"We will see," she said with an intimidating voice. "Then, the prophecy?"
"Who rides so late in the windy night?
A father with his son, on the back of the horse
Holding him tightly in his arms,
Brave and safe, well-kept in his fervent lap.
Without hurry, without rest.
The past and present seduce the same.
The fact is everything, the glory nothing when peace is missing.
The blood, in exotic nectar, regenerates.
The best half of life is robbed,
The night rides.
He, who does not abandon,
Will shape the world his way," Phinehas recited.
Filldeserp closed his eyes and leaned back on his seat. Behind his meditating appearance Hermione felt the resentment and anguish. She was not surprised by such reaction; he, more than anyone, hated prophecies and everything related to a predetermined destiny.
"But… where is the connection with Harry?" Hermione inquired after reviewing the contents.
"It is not literal, but his name was written in the prophecy itself when a copy was generated in the German ministry next to another person who remains unknown," Phinehas replied, studying the heir with interest. "We think it is his child."
"Another curious detail," Voldemort intersected, "that prophecy is not… the first edition. It has two dates; one from three months ago, and another from a thousand years."
"Merlin…" Filldeserp whispered, pale and disturbed. He was looking at Voldemort imploringly, seeking a refusal for his theory.
"Some prophecies are not fulfilled in the time set… it is not odd for them to be repeated or fulfilled centuries later," the Dark Lord commented in a casual tone, but his red eyes responded to Filldeserp's intense gaze. "In particular when the characters are repeated as well."
When Hermione, after seeing Phinehas experiencing her same confusion, was about to request the Dark Lords to share their findings, Folly appeared in the dining room, apologizing for the interruption, but arguing they had a guest who claimed to be a healer.
Such healer made his entrance then, doing the corresponding bows to his leaders.
"Lord Filldeserp, I will return if this is not the best time. I know I said I would come in the afternoon, but…"
"Derwent, I am pleased that the well-being of my family makes you so impatient," the heir interrupted him with some sarcasm. "Please, let us get more comfortable."
Hermione and Harry went upstairs with the healer to the bedroom, but Voldemort and Phinehas chose to remain in the dining room.
The Gryffindor lied on the bed as the healer indicated and the man started waving his wand, pronouncing different charms which she did not know. She could see Harry out of the corner of her eye monitoring each one of the healer's movements, paying attention to any issue or anomaly.
When he finished the process the healer sat on one of the chairs available with signs of evident sweat. He was whispering to himself while he took some notes.
"Well?" Filldeserp requested impatiently.
"The pregnancy seems to be going well," Derwent determined, although he still looked worried. "I can guarantee both fetuses are healthy and…"
"Both?" Hermione and Harry interrupted at the same time. The healer stuttered, extremely embarrassed.
"Twins… a boy and a girl… I'm sorry, milord, I thought you knew…"
"Are… are you sure?" Filldeserp questioned, petrified by the news.
"Absolutely."
"Merlin!" He said for the second time that day, seating down heavily on another chair.
"You need to be very careful, milady," Derwent advised. "Try to use the least magic you can… the fetuses are feeding at the moment vigorously. I imagine it is because of the traumatic experience they suffered…" He stopped his sentence to Filldeserp's intense look. "The due date is most likely in May."
"What? That is not possible," Hermione yelled this time. "Conception was in November…"
"The acceleration… could it be because of the… traumatic experience?" Filldeserp asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I could not prove it, but yes," Derwent agreed. "It is possible that… it led the fetuses to mature more quickly. That is why they feed so much of your wife, especially of her magic. It could also be that her body is rejecting them after… her return. It is too soon to know. I will need to do regular check-ups."
The news left Hermione with her mouth open and holding her stomach. Harry went to her and caressed her cheek, calming her down instantly as he gave her some of his magic. He then kissed her forehead and turned to the death eater, again in his role as Dark Lord.
"Allow me to escort you to the exit, Derwent," Filldeserp suggested. "Hermione, stay here, please."
Once out of her wife's hearing reach the dark wizard cornered the healer against the wall with his wand on his neck.
"Do not spread this news if you value your life, Derwent. My wife is dead, understood?"
"Perfectly, milord."
After insuring the death eater's departure, he joined Voldemort and Phinehas in the dining room to share the news. The vampire was the first to react, congratulating him. He even cheekily asked who would be godfather for the girl, volunteering for the position. Voldemort, nevertheless, was not so warm.
"As soon as she is born, you will have to get rid of her," he pointed out. "The boy will cause enough trouble."
"No," Filldeserp decided without hesitation. "Anyway, for the moment, I am more concerned for Hermione's health. We cannot expose her to the death eaters under these circumstances."
"I agree," Phinehas intervened and Voldemort glared at him.
"As appreciated as your words can be, count, this is a discussion between Dark Lords."
"I merely make an opinion, Lord Voldemort. No one here is challenging your authority or your territory," the vampire replied.
Filldeserp's exasperation grew. He was used to the arguments between Hermione and Voldemort, but if he had to add the constant bickering between the Dark Lord and the vampire, he did not know how much his patience could digest.
"I will declare Hermione dead," he resolved. "That will keep her apart and safe from the death eaters and the Order."
"And where will you do that?" Voldemort asked with irony. "You will not be able to isolate her in any of our headquarters… and until we do not fix the Fortress…"
Filldeserp smiled widely, extending his arms and pointing at his surroundings.
"Godric's Hollow is very cozy, don't you think so, count Phinehas?"