Shattered Surrender
by sick-atxxheart
Chapter Fifteen
Hermione immediately scrambled backward, startled by the piercing green eyes that were staring so innocently back at her. She hid behind the wall just outside the door, taking a deep breath and attempting to steady her breathing. Hermione knew it was foolish to be so afraid of someone who was at least two times smaller than her.
Taking another deep breath, Hermione stuck her head around the doorframe cautiously. The scene she was greeted with was not that much different than the original one, but slightly more disturbing. The boy was huddled in the corner of his bed, his blanket pulled up around him with only his green eyes visible.
Hermione had never had a lot of friends, but her parents had always told her that she was very perceptive and could figure out anything if she wanted to. Hermione felt a pull in her heart as she realized that she might never be reunited with her parents, but she pushed it back down quickly, returning to the problem at hand. She could almost sense the fear in the boy's eyes, and she wondered if he had gone through anything like she had.
Hermione took a tentative step into the room, trying to make her face look as pleasant as possible. "Hi," she said softly, her voice coming out softer than she had wanted it to. "I'm Hermione."
Still the boy didn't move, and Hermione couldn't help but being confused. She was being nice to him- she was smiling, and she hadn't done anything to hurt him. There was no reason for him to be afraid of her. What was his problem?
Hermione tried again. "Hi," she repeated. "What's your name?" She took another cautious step inside the room, subconsciously moving away from the door. She didn't want Bella to catch her outside her room and be mad at her; for that matter, she didn't really want to see any of the other adults who had been in the room during what she had come to call "The Incident."
The silence in the room was almost tangible and Hermione was just starting to feel immensely awkward when the boy finally spoke. His words were barely audible, and Hermione almost didn't catch them.
"My name's Harry," he said, his mouth hidden behind the blanket. Hermione wondered inwardly how old he was.
Hermione wasn't quite sure how to respond to his comment, because all he had done was introduce himself. It didn't seem appropriate to ask him how he was, or to talk about the weather. Hermione carefully walked to the other side of the room to grab a chair similar to the one that was in her room. She carried it over to a few feet beside Harry's bed. Hermione waited for Harry's nod before sitting down, almost as if asking his permission. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that she really didn't want to hurt or scare Harry; it was almost as if he was fragile, and could break at any moment. She wondered if she looked the same way, and hoped not.
The room was still engulfed in silence, and Hermione could tell that Harry wasn't going to take the initiative and start a conversation. It was going to have to be her, and Hermione took a few more minutes of the silence to try and puzzle out a good icebreaker that she could use to get him talking. It didn't seem likely that the boy would suddenly start being her best friend, but Hermione wanted to know someone her own age in this strange place. She had never been an immensely social creature, but she had never craved to be alone, either.
Hermione finally sighed and said the simplest thing she could think of. "Where are we?" She asked quietly, remembering just in time to keep her voice pleasant and almost bored.
Despite Hermione's best efforts, Harry obviously wasn't going to speak again. He just looked at her over the blanket that he was holding across his face, looking startlingly small and timid. Hermione tried a few more times to get him to share any bit of information with her- she even went so far as to ramble on about her own life- but nothing worked.
Finally, Hermione stood up and threw her hands into the air. "Well, obviously you're not going to do any of the talking," she snapped, forgetting that she was trying to soothe the boy, not scare him. "What, do you not talk? I know you do, you said your name already."
It only took Harry a few seconds to respond this time. "I-I'm s-sorry!" He stuttered, shrinking further behind his blanket, something Hermione hadn't thought was possible. "D-Don't b-be m-ma-mad-"
Hermione's eyes softened, as if she suddenly understood. "What, do you think I'm going to hurt you?" Harry's silence confirmed her guess, and she continued.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she promised. "I really just want to be your friend."
Harry looked confused. "My friend?" he asked quietly, looking startled that he had spoken. "W-What's that?"
Hermione hid her surprise well. "What's a friend?" She questioned. "Um… a friend is someone you have fun with, that you, um, talk to and play with and… stuff," she finished lamely. If she was being honest with herself, Hermione had never had that many friends; she had always been to enveloped in books and knowledge to actually have the time or desire to actually play with someone her own age. But now, Hermione really wanted a friend. She wanted someone to be able to understand what she was going through, and Harry seemed like a perfect option.
"I-I've never had a friend before," Harry said, his green eyes looking puzzled but almost hopeful. Hermione wondered how in the world he could have never had at least one friend, if not even an imaginary one. She had had an imaginary friend named Puddles when she was younger, and he had been her best friend for years.
"I'll be your friend," Hermione said. "I'm not going to hurt you." She felt it appropriate to reassure him again, simply because his fear appeared to be his problem. Hermione wondered exactly what he was afraid of, and then simply assumed it was just the scary, unfamiliar place that they were in. She was frightened too, but didn't deem it prudent to show it.
Harry simply nodded, and the room lapsed into silence again. Inwardly, Hermione sighed exasperatedly and then decided to try her question again. "Since I'm your friend, Harry," she began, "Do you know where we are?"
Harry actually responded this time, and Hermione couldn't help but being pleased at her success in getting him to trust her. She was apparently more intuitive than she had thought.
"I-I'm not exactly sure," he said softly. "Some type of dungeon, I think. But we're not prisoners- at least I don't think." He sounded unsure, but Hermione agreed with what he had said.
"How many people are there?" She asked. She only clearly remembered Bella and the blue-eyed man, who Hermione didn't particularly want to think about; but she remembered there being other people in the room during The Incident, and she assumed that Harry knew who they were.
"Well, there's Bella," Harry said. "And there's Siri and Sev, and then, um… Veldemord. Or something."
"Veldemord?" Hermione asked. "That's a strange name."
Harry looked sheepish. "I may have gotten it wrong. It's a weird name… But he's the guy with the really, really white face."
"And red eyes?" Hermione questioned, knowing now who Harry was talking about. She remembered him being slightly arrogant, but he had been nice to her, so he couldn't be all that bad.
Hermione leaned back in her chair, feeling slightly more comfortable now that she at least knew who she was dealing with. "What do they want with us?" She asked, using 'us' because it was obvious that she and Harry had to be connected in some way.
Harry shook his head. "I really don't know. Apparently I'm a… Protector… or something. Saving the world, I guess." He sounded nonchalant, but Hermione could see the fear and confusion spike in his eyes again as he told her about it.
"What about me, then?" Hermione asked, almost afraid of the answer. But Harry simply shook his head.
"You were supposed to be… a threat, I think," he said slowly. "Or a bribe. The old guy- Dumledoor or something-"
"Don't talk about him," Hermione interrupted, without meaning to. She didn't want to hear about the mean man with the blue eyes. She looked up at Harry, who was watching her curiously.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking sincere. He had put down the blanket so that it was only over his legs, and through his T-shirt Hermione could see exactly how thin he was. He looked malnourished, in fact, and Hermione wondered exactly what had happened to him. She had learned enough by that point to know that it would not bode well to ask him, but she resolutely vowed that she would find out.
They continued in easy conversation for a few more minutes until they ran out of things to talk about, without addressing either of the subjects that both of them wished to avoid. It was just in the moment that they both fell silent when Severus entered the room.
He stopped abruptly, looking at the two children sitting before him who had apparently been talking animatedly the moment before. Severus was just returning from the planning session with Voldemort and the others, and was going to check on the two children before returning to his quarters for a much-needed tea break.
Severus noticed immediately that Hermione looked terrified, undoubtedly of being caught outside her room, and he tried to wipe the shocked look off his face. Severus also saw that Harry almost looked relaxed, even though he too appeared to be slightly anxious.
"Hello," Severus said calmly. "I see you two have met." He wasn't quite sure exactly how to deal with the situation at hand; he had no idea if the Dark Lord had wanted Harry and Hermione to meet, and if he did under what circumstances it was supposed to happen. This had been sprung on him quite unexpectedly.
Both Harry and Hermione looked sheepish as they nodded at his statement. Hermione looked as if she wanted to speak, and Severus could just tell that she was about to burst into some form of sincere apology that he really did not have the patience to listen to. Sighing, he decided to take the easiest route. "I'm sorry to break up your little chat," he said, "But Hermione really needs to return to her room."
The girl immediately shot up from her seat next to Harry's bed, looked at him apologetically, and exited the room, walking as far away from Severus as possible. She waved goodbye to Harry as she went, and Severus watched as Harry returned the gesture.
Severus was silent for almost an entire minute before he fell into his caretaker duties, checking Harry's temperature and giving him a potion loaded with all the essential nutrients that Harry needed to get stronger and healthier from where he was. The whole time, Harry was silent, almost contemplative.
"Are you feeling well, Harry?" Severus finally asked, taking a step back from his bed to look at the child. Harry nodded.
"I'm fine," he said, looking puzzled. After a moment, he spoke again. "You're not mad at Hermione, are you?"
Severus quickly shook his head, eager to appease Harry's worry. "No, I'm not, Harry," he said. "Why would you ask that?"
"Because she's my friend," Harry said, still looking slightly confused. Severus could see the sleepiness that was now showing in his eyes. "I don't want you to be angry with her," He finished, yawning through his words.
"Well, everything is fine," Severus reassured him, fixing his bed and instructing Harry to go to sleep. "Don't worry."
It only took minutes for Harry to fall asleep, as he was still recovering from his ordeal. Severus shut off the light and exited the room, his mind turning at a million miles a minute, wondering exactly how to tell Voldemort about this new development. Severus couldn't begin to guess how the man would react, as his moods and actions had been so uncharacteristic lately. Voldemort appeared to have a sort of a soft spot for Harry, probably having something to do with the mentor ritual that had been performed; but his aversion to Muggleborns was obvious, and whether he would accept Harry being friends with one was questionable.
However, Severus could also see how foolish it would be to take Harry's friend away from him. The boy had appeared to be at least content when he had been talking to Hermione. Maybe Harry needed a friend- he was going to have to save the world, after all.
Voldemort paced through this quarters, a rather sinister smile on his face. Pettigrew was standing in front of him, quivering in fear, although Voldemort hadn't given him any reason to be afraid; the pathetic man seemed to always be shaking. Voldemort had considered long ago that he may have some type of problem, but that had never stopped him from teasing the man mercilessly about it. It wouldn't do to get soft on his servant, who was bound almost only by his own fear.
Things had gone exactly the way he had wanted them to, and Voldemort was personally unbelievably excited to put their plan for Dumbledore into action. The man was such a foolish idiot that the Dark Lord couldn't help but wonder exactly how he had come to be so respected and revered for his intelligence. Maybe he was smart fact-wise, but Dumbledore certainly appeared to be lacking in the common sense department.
Voldemort sent Pettigrew away and had just decided that he would have to take some sort of rest before he commenced any further planning when there was a loud rap on the door. Cursing under his breath, hoping inwardly that it was Pettigrew so that he could beat some sense into the man, Voldemort opened the door to find Bella there, looking both apologetic but determined.
Sneering at her, Voldemort spoke. "What do you want, Bella?" He wondered sometimes if she took her place as one of his top Death Eaters for granted.
"I have a problem with the plan." Her words were bold, and she didn't appear to be afraid. Voldemort rolled his eyes and wandered back into the darkened sitting room, taking his place in the throne-like chair by the fire.
"Well?" he said, his patience wearing thin. "What is it?"
"I-" Bellatrix began, her black eyes shadowed. "I d-don't think-"
She stuttered for a few moments more before Voldemort was finally fed up. "Bellatrix!" He roared, rolling his eyes. "I don't have the time or the patience to deal with your confusion! Tell me what it is, or get out!"
Bella let out a string of expletives that made the Dark Lord grin inwardly. He had always appreciated a well-placed curse word. "I'm not used to feeling like this," she said, looking up at Voldemort, the look in her eyes almost pleading. "I can't handle it."
Voldemort concealed his eye roll this time, interested by what Bella was saying. "Go on," he said.
"I feel- I feel- protective!" Bella exclaimed, looking almost ashamed of her revelation. "And I can't handle it. I hate it. I don't like caring about people!" She looked flustered, and Voldemort had come to know over the years that the look in her eyes meant trouble.
"About Harry, I presume?" Voldemort questioned, keeping his voice controlled.
Bella nodded, and then exclaimed again, "Yes, of course about Harry! But about Hermione too!"
"Hermione?" Voldemort asked, not sure who she was talking about.
"The girl! The Muggleborn girl. I comforted her last night when she was having a nightmare. What is wrong with me?"
Voldemort had no answer. He sighed. "You know I have no idea, Bellatrix," he said. "I'm not a man who understands feelings, for Merlin's sake!"
Bella stood in silence for a long moment before nodding, her shoulders slumping as if she accepted his words. "I know," she said. "I just don't understand, and I don't like feeling this way..."
Voldemort sighed again. "Do you have a real problem with the plan?" He wanted to change the subject away from feelings as quickly as possible. Voldemort had just begun to see how foolish it was to attach himself to Harry in the way of a mentor, because it meant that he actually cared about the boy. Voldemort didn't despite feelings; rather, he feared them. They were volatile and uncertain, and the Dark Lord didn't care to deal with anything that he couldn't control.
Bella sighed too. "It's back to this protective thing again," she said, almost as if apologizing. "I- I don't want to put either of them in danger."
Voldemort immediately knew that she was referring to Harry and Hermione. His facial expression shifted until it settled into one of displeasure, and he said, "Really. So what do you suggest we do instead?" His words were laced with disapproval, and he could see Bella's visible wince. The Dark Lord wasn't really pleased with the idea of changing the plan that they had all agreed upon. Placing the Imperius Curse on Dumbledore and forcing him to attack a protected Hermione seemed like the perfect plan. Dumbledore would be seen as a monster in the Wizarding World, and Hermione wouldn't feel anything other than a mild sensation of the magic protecting her. It seemed ideal for everyone, but the three Death Eaters had expressed their concern about convincing Hermione to help. Bella knew how terrified Hermione was of him.
"I- I propose using the Polyjuice Potion," Bella said hopefully. "I- I'll go in Hermione's place."
The plans had finally been worked out at least partially in Bella's favor when another knock came at the door. Voldemort rose from his chair and Bella shrunk back in hers, wondering what her instructions would be. Voldemort opened the door with a bang, appropriately menacing, to see Severus standing in the doorway, looking amused.
"Merlin!" Voldemort exclaimed angrily. "What is it, Intrude-Upon-My-Personal-Space Day? I should punish the both of you!"
Bella shrunk back even further in her seat, but Severus just ignored Voldemort's words and spoke. "Harry and Hermione have met." He spoke flatly, putting no emotion into his words, as if he was unsure what his reaction to his own statement should be.
"What?" Voldemort exclaimed. "How did this happen, Severus? You know that I didn't want them to even know the other existed!"
"They were locked in their rooms!" Severus shot back at him. "I have no idea how in the world Hermione even got out of her room and into Harry's! Both were locked, I swear, my Lord. I checked them myself."
Voldemort let the look on his face slide off as he considered what Severus had just revealed to him. "Accidental magic?" He questioned.
Severus hesitated. "I... I don't think she knew that she did anything."
Voldemort smirked. "So we have a Protector," he said softly, "and a child who has magic we don't even know about."
"But she's Muggleborn," Bella pointed out, forgetting her feelings for the child and falling back on her old prejudices.
"Yes," Voldemort said. "But I have a feeling that this Muggleborn may be more useful than we anticipate."
Bella shivered. She couldn't shake her feeling that Voldemort had plans, and that she would not like them.
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