A/N: Alright guys! I think this is going to be like the third-to-last chapter or so (besides the epilogue and excerpts and such)! This has been an amazing, and long ride, and I hope ya'll are still enjoying it! No flames!
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all familiar concepts
Chapter Ten—L.K. Kirkland
The morning air was bitter against Hermione's skin, and her hair whipped around her face as she held the broom steady beneath her. Far below, the rolling hills and deep forests seemed endless, and she could hardly tell one area from another.
"If it weren't for the fact that they had produced the most evil wizard of all time," Ron called over the wind, "I would call Germany the most beautiful country I'd ever seen." Hermione begged to differ; not on the latter, but the former. Grindelwald was not eviler than Voldemort.
"That's Heilbronn!" Harry told them informatively. He and Ron swept closer to Hermione and Tom so that they could talk without having to shout over the wind. "We're getting very close. Now when we get there, we have to be ready to face either dementors or wizard guards, but whichever, I don't think we should just barge in and attack."
"Yes, because that's always such a brilliant idea," Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes. Harry ignored him.
"From what I've read, Nurmengard is surrounded by high walls. There are anti-apparition wards, but perhaps if he could lower them—"
"Don't be stupid," Hermione scorned. "We can't lower the wards—even for a moment, that would alert them of our presence. We're going to have to do this the old fashion way."
"Which is?"
Hermione smirked. "I've got a plan. We won't know our way around very well, but I did bring a few books on Nurmengard and Germany, and I've been doing some light reading, so I think I've got the general idea. Judging by what I've read, the fortress itself isn't guarded very heavily—the wall is enough to keep everyone in or out."
"But that's just the problem then, Mione," Harry argued. "If this wall is so might, and it can keep high-security prisoners in, then how are we supposed to get through it?"
She tapped her temple with her wand. "Don't forget Harry; we have wands—they don't."
He frowned. "I'm under the impression that you know more than you're telling."
"Just follow my lead; whichever route we take, we'll end up at the same place."
Tom was staring hard at his knuckles, which were pale around the tip of his broom. He looked up at her, and she could see that he had an idea of exactly what she was thinking. "Are you sure?" he breathed, his brows drawn together seriously.
She grimaced, shaking her head. "No, but what other chance do we have?"
Hermione had them land about eight miles away from the prison itself. She handed each of the boys darker robes, which they quickly pulled on, and led them towards a dark street named 'Bayernstraße'.
"The prison itself sits at the foot of lake, Großer Dutzendteich," she told them quietly. A hush seemed to have fallen over the four of them; they had all seemed to realize that this was a defining moment in their journey. "We're going to take a short trek through the forest for a bit, so that we come out near the far edge of the wall, where there is a smaller population of guards."
Hermione's "short trek" turned out to be more like a marathon. Nearly four hours later, the four of them emerged from out of the thick, perspiring heavily and hair matted with mud and sweat. They stared, slack-jawed at the huge stone wall, which had to stand at least twenty-five feet tall; springing up from the top of the wall were very tall, very formidable-looking iron spikes. "There's no way in hell—" Ron began, but Hermione cut him off.
"We aren't going over it." At the boys' baffled expressions, she gave them a wry smile, before casting a Disillusionment charm and hurrying across the clearing, disappearing before they could follow her movements.
"What the-?" Ron bumbled, but Tom shushed him. "C'mon!" The three of them hurried across the clearing after her. They found Hermione a few feet beneath them, knee-deep in murky-looking water. She had removed her Disillusionment, and she stared up at the three of them.
"Water ducts," she explained, and immediately saw the understanding click in Tom's eyes. He jumped down into the pool of water with her, withdrawing his wand from his robes and tapping it against the bars of the grate.
"Iron," he murmured, before turning to Hermione. "After we break it, we should use the bubble-head charm to get to shore. If we have to bob up for air every six seconds, someone's bound to notice us. Hermione nodded, and both of them raised their wands, pointing them at the bars.
"Confrigo!" Hermione whispered, watching in satisfaction as the bars bent, just a little bit.
"Defodio!" Tom hissed, and several deep groves appeared in the metal.
"Diffindo!"
"Expulso!"
"Incendio!"
"Reducto!"
Tom wiped his brow, lifting his wand and casting the final spell at the bars, which was hanging off by a hinge. "Deprimo." A powerful wind burst from his wand, pushing the bars off their hinge and sending them flying backwards, landing with a splash in the water. He cast the bubble-head charm on Hermione, and then on himself, and dove through the water duct, disappearing into the murky water. After making sure the boys were following, she dove in after him. It wasn't a long swim before they reached the shore. The four of them disillusioned themselves and sat on the bank, catching their breath.
After a moment, Harry said, "That was brilliant, Mione." She blushed prettily, looking away.
"Oh, it was nothing. I only knew because of all the reading I've done on Nurmengard."Harry pulled her to her feet. "So I think two of us should go under the invisibility cloak, and go through the front, while the other two disillusion themselves and sneak in through the back."
"Right, Mione and I will go under the cloak through the front, and we'll head up to the guards' offices, to look for whoever we're supposed to be looking for. Ron and Tom, you two go around the back, but watch out for guards. It isn't safe to be wandering around simply disillusioned—"
"We don't have any other option, Macmillan." Tom reminded him, suddenly looking irritated. "Just…look for the highest ranking officer you can find. I don't think we should interrogate them unless we can get them alone."
"Do you think we can?" Hermione asked him.
He turned his gaze on her, and she fought off the blush that threatened to rise to her cheeks. "I think you and your brother can, with that cloak of yours," he told her. "But only if you wait for the opportune moment."
"Opportune moment," she mentally noted. "Got it—now c'mon, before it gets too late." Harry pulled her under the cloak, and the two of the made their way around the fortress, clambering over the sides of the bridge and moving towards the huge front doors. Two guards stood on either side of them, and the brother and sister froze, quieting their breathing. "How are we supposed to open the door without them noticing?" Hermione whispered. Looking around, Harry tapped her on the shoulder and pointed. When she didn't get it, he led her over to the other end of the bridge, where a series of stones were strewn about. Picking one up, Harry waited till both of the guards weren't looking, and then threw it with all his might. The stone bounced off the far wall and landed with a splash in the water.
"Vat vas zat? The shorter guard asked his companion, and when the man didn't reply, he moved towards the end of the bridge, peering out at the water. Harry and Hermione edged around him, and, with a quick flick of her wand, Hermione muttered, "Obscuro." A blindfold shot out of her wand and wrapped itself around the second guard's eyes. With a yelp, he grappled with the piece of cloth, ripping it away from his eyes, not noticing the heavy wooden door opening and shutting in a matter of seconds.
From the other side of the door, Harry and Hermione heard the guards arguing. "Vat did you do zat for!" The second guard shouted at the first guard.
"Vat are you talking about? I vas over here, you blizering idiot, not near you!" The two men continue to bicker, and Harry and Hermione stifled their laughter, looking around the entrance hall of the fortress.
"Looks sort of ominous," Harry said quietly, and he was not wrong. Spiral staircases ascended on either side of the room, and a huge grey statue was the centerpiece of the room. It depicted a young man, with a charming smile and curly hair.
"Well it can't be said that he isn't vain," Hermione snorted, glancing at the statue one more time before leading Harry up the staircase on the left. To her left, a long hallway disappeared into the darkness, and she could see that the same was true at the top of the staircase on her right. But in between the two of them on a platform was a single straight staircase, the end of it swallowed up by the darkness above.
"Let's go this way," Harry said in a low voice, pointing up the staircase. Hermione resisted to urge to light the tip of her wand, and followed Harry up into the darkness. They came to a long hallway, each door labeled with an initial and a last name.
"Good guess," Hermione told him. "The left and right must have been prison cells, and these must be the guard's quarters." The hallway was very long, and Hermione was certain that they had passed at least thirty doors before they came to the end of the hall, where a single door sat, facing them, embellished with a golden name plate.
General L.K. Kirkland
Just as Harry's hand closed around the doorknob, they heard voices from inside. Hermione leaned her head against the wood of the door, and realized that they were quarreling about something.
"What is irritating me, Professor, is that you seem much less concerned about the missing medallion, and much more concerned about the fact that the Lieutenant Colonel is dead." The scorn in his voice was cutting. "You do realize, I am sure, Professor that our Lord will not hesitate to kill once he learns of this."
"I understand zis, General," said the second man tiredly. He was German, and sounded quite a bit older than the first man, and twice as weary. "I am not inclined to like to you ven I tell you zat I do not have ze slightest idea how zey got away. Zey vere surrounded by our men, but zey managed to apparate. Our men scoured ze area, but zey had vanished completely." With a jolt, Hermione realized that the two men were talking about them.
"Grindelwald is already unhappy with my failure to seize Hogwarts—"
"Perhaps if you hadn't sent a child to do a man's job…" Both Hermione and Harry's ears perked at this, and they shared a bewildered look.
"He did just as he was supposed to do, flawlessly—"
"He vill be killed, Luther, as vill you. Grindelvald does not appreciate deficiency, and now zat you've lost ze medallion, you have squandered his only opportunity to defeat Dumbledore once and for all—"
"I will not listen to this any longer, Saramun!" the younger man snapped.
After a beat, the older man sighed, and they could hear the scratching of his chair against the floor as he rose, gathering his papers into his arms and moving to leave. Just as he stood in front of the door, however, he paused, without turning around, and said, "Zat curse killed my son. I vant it removed from everyone in your ranks."
The coldness in the General's voice was terrifying. "Your son was about to speak that which he should not be speaking of." The Professor flung open the door and Hermione and Harry took their chance. They dove through the door just as it snapped shut, and stood silently against the wall, observing the agitated man.
He sat in front of his desk, his face in his hands. Hermione studied him, now that they got a chance to get a good look at him. His hair was a dirty blonde, and Hermione's couldn't see a trace of grey in it, giving Hermione the impression that he was at least in his thirties or forties. His build was quite strong, and she could tell if he stood he'd tower over her. As he lifted his head from his hands and started to shuffle around the paperwork on his desk, Hermione noted that his eyes were a stormy shade of grey. Those eyes seemed familiar-
She grimaced as she watched the agility with which he moved, the surety of each little thing he did. It reminded her of Tom, and she immediately knew that this wouldn't be an easy fight."We need to make our move," Harry said, right next to her ear, yet so quietly that she almost missed it. "I need you to seal the door, so that no one can get in or out. I'll immobilize him." Hermione gave a swift nod, drawing her wand and aiming it at the door. "One, two….three!"
Harry flung the cloak off of them, and Hermione cast every locking charm she knew on the door. Briefly, she registered that Tom and Ron would not be able to help them, regardless of what they did, but she decided that was worth it. Whirling around, Hermione immediately knew something was wrong. Harry's curse had been deflected, and the General was standing, his wand drawn and face arranged into an amused expression.
"Oh, what a pleasant surprise," he said in a friendly voice, and Hermione immediately raised her wand defensively, not liking the smile on his face. "I thought I heard someone it here, but I couldn't be certain." He walked around his desk, his arms folded behind his back as if they were having a pleasant conversation about the weather. He nodded towards the door. " Very clever of you, warding the door. I'll bet you're the Ravenclaw, young lady?"
Hermione faltered, her brows drawing together in confusion. "How do you—"
"I've got some very reliable sources. In fact, I'm afraid I've been one step ahead of you the entire little game. I knew you were coming, you see, so I decided to set up the perfect little trap for my lovely little students."
"You're lying," Harry snarled. "You know we've got you beat. The rooms warded, and no one can help you, and we've got two wands to your one."
"Very good, Potter. I'm most impressed." Hermione felt her blood run cold, and next to her Harry had blanched. The General smiled at their reactions. "Oh, yes, I know all about your little time-traveling stunt. I did say my sources were reliable, didn't I?"
"I—I don't know what you're talking about," Harry fumbled, seeming to grow more and more disturbed by the moment. He chuckled, pacing in front of them.
"Yes, Potter. When my source informed me of your immediate appearance, I found that I was intrigued to learn more about you, especially as he began to piece together the puzzle, and every once in a while, one of you would let something slip…." He laughed again, and the sound made Hermione's blood run cold "Well, anyway, he sent me some DNA samples—a few plucks of your hair, you fingerprints on a glass—and it wasn't too hard to do my research and match up my blood lines."
Hermione suddenly heard a series of footsteps, and she cocked her ears, trying to figure out where they were coming from, before she realizes that they were emitting from beneath the floor. There were a few moments of silence, and then three of the floorboards cracked open, revealing a trap door than Hermione would not have noticed otherwise. She watched in horror as four guards emerged from the door, dragging a very disgruntled looking Tom and Ron with them. Helplessly, Hermione sent a hex spiraling towards them, but the General easily summoned her and Harry's wands and tucked them away into a drawer. The guards lined up against the wall, and Hermione stared at the trap door with futile hope, before one of them kicked it shut, and she barely repressed a groan.
"Oh, look, familiar company!" the General teased, his eyes skirting over Tom's fierce glare. He glanced at Ron, grinning. "You must be the Weasley! You'd be intrigued to know that I had an interesting run in with your great-grandfather years ago." A sneer curled around his lips, distorting his handsome face. "I made sure his end was noble, as he would have wanted it."
"How much do you know?" Harry asked warily, keeping one eye on the General and one on Tom, who was now staring at the three of them with a sort of realization.
The General chortled, waving a hand of nonchalance in Harry's direction. "Only bits and pieces of information about yourselves that my source and I put together on our own. I'm not a seer, you know, so I know nothing of the outcome of the future, just that you—" He turned his grey-eyed gaze on Harry. "Have the blood of Potter within your veins, and that you," he turned, next, to Ron, whose face was red with anger, "Have the blood of Weasley, and that you," he shifted to look and Hermione, and she felt her chest clench up, threatening to choke her. "My little Muggleborn, may perhaps be the most gifted Mudblood I've ever seen."
I t did not matter how many time she had heard the word, how many times those Purebloods had thrown at her, she couldn't help the sting she felt in her gut each and every time. She couldn't bear looking at Tom's, whose eyes, she knew, were burning in search of hers. She could imagine the train that his thoughts were following now: I, the invincible Heir of Slytherin, descendant of the great and powerful Salazar, kissed a filthy, lowly, disgusting Mudblood?
"Surely, you must have heard how much we adore Mudbloods, here," he sneered at her. Drawing herself up to her full height, Hermione glared him down, her head tilted high.
"Surely, you must have heard how little I care for the opinion of murderers and monsters."
"Oh, don't you, though?" the General said, smirking as his eyes flickered to Tom. "Don't you make a habit of associating with exactly those types of people?"
Tom growled, lunging towards him, but Hermione grabbed both of his arms, holding him back. After a moment of struggling, he gave up, shaking her hands off of him and not bothering to look at her. Hermione felt her heart give a little squeeze, and she turned away from him.
"Now, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to mutilate each of your bodies, one by one, and then send them back in beautifully wrapped coffins, with my best regards, to darling Dumbledore himself."
"Actually, I think it's more along the lines of: you're to get thrown in Azkaban, and darling Dumbledore will make sure that you never see the light of day again." Hermione's rage was boiling now. How dare he threaten them, this coward of a man—
He studied her for a moment, his grey eyes a strange mixture of hatred and curiosity. "Throw them in the dungeons," he said finally, waving them away. "—with the prisoners. And for Merlin's sake, will someone un-ward that stupid door!"
Hermione blinked blearily, her back aching from the uncomfortable sleeping position. Harry's head was in her lap, and Ron leaned against her shoulder. She glanced across the cell, seeing Tom sitting, wide away, his arms wrapped around his knees, staring out the barred window. As though he had felt her eyes on him, he turned to face her, his cold gaze making her shiver.
"Did you get any sleep?" she whispered to him. After appraising her for a moment longer, he shook his head, looking away. She sighed heavily, leaning her head against the wall. It had been like this for three days; they had been provided little food, lesser water, and Tom was still giving her that look. It was not a threatening look, necessarily, nor a hateful look, but simply a cold, empty, emotionless look.
Tired of this treatment, Hermione slid out from beneath Harry and Ron and sunk down on the ground beside him. He did not look at her, but she saw his shoulders tense slightly. She lined up their fingers next to each other on the floor. Their hands were so difference. Hers were small, but they had never been particularly delicate. She had large knuckles and short fingers. His, however, were huge, with long, pianist fingers and immaculately-kept nails. She glanced up at him.
"It isn't my fault," she said finally, her voice gentle and patient. "I can't control who I was born to, just like you can't control having a Muggle father."
"Shut up!" He hissed, his gaze turning hostile so quickly that she nearly leapt back, but instead shook her head slowly.
"No, listen to me. How was I supposed to know that when I was born, I was going to be born into two worlds, neither of which completely accepted me? I'm too odd for the magical world and too magical for the Muggle world; I don't fit in anywhere. But I can't help but be proud when I think about the fact that even though I parents can't do magic, I can out-duel half of the Purebloods in our school—"
He was quiet for a moment, before he spoke, still staring down at the aligned hands. "I don't care that you're a Muggleborn, Macmill—Hermione." She looked up at him sharply, surprise flickering over her face. "I might've cared two months ago, but you've proven to be much more than just a blood status….just like I did."
She peered at him questioningly, at he sighed. "My first year at Hogwarts….it was hell. The Slytherins all knew I was a half-blood—they weren't stupid, they knew Riddle was a Muggle name. They treated me like the scum under their shoes. I had to prove myself—and you've no idea how hard that is in a group of Pureblood Slytherins. I had to prove my heritage to them, my intelligence, my magical ability, for them to even begin to accept me. I have no disrespect for a Muggleborn who can prove herself superior to everyone around her."
Hermione felt a warm blush spreading from her neck and up her face. "So….so you don't hate me?"
He snorted, scuffing his shoe against the stone floor. "No, I sort of hate you, actually."
Her face fell, and he rolled his eyes and continued. "I hate you because everything I know about you is a lie. I—I'm not even certain who you are….I mean, Merlin, you're from the future!"
"I'm exactly the same person I was!" Hermione insisted. "Just under a different name." He studied her callously.
"And….what is that name?"
She cleared her throat, turning to face him in holding out a hand. "Hermione Jean Granger, pleased to meet you."
He chuckled as he took her hand. "Granger." He repeated, tasting it in his mouth. "Hermione Granger. Definitely has more of a ring to it." He paused, his expression suddenly turning serious. "Why did you come back, Hermione?"
She froze, peering into his deep eyes, her hands trembling. "I—I can't tell you that. It's not personal, it's just…..I don't want to destroy the future anymore than it already is."
He nodded slowly, and Hermione was shocked. Tom Riddle was never satisfied with not knowing all the answers. She stared at him, slightly awed, out of the corner of her eyes. But then, she thought, Tom Riddle had never admitted that he had respect for a Mudblood, either.
Tom was chuckling, and she glanced at him, frowning. "What?" She asked, watching as he shook his head, greatly amused by something.
Finally, he said, "Just my luck, of course. I never fancy a girl my entire life, and the first one I do is from the future." She ogled him for a moment, her jaw dropping at what he had just so blatantly admitted, before joining in his laughter, trying not to blush too much at the casual way that he slipped his hand into hers.
The door swung open, and one of the guards gruffly moved in set their trays of 'food' on the ground. Hermione saw Harry blink one eye open, and felt an immediate shift in the air. In one movement, Harry slid the food tray over towards himself, raised it above his head, and promptly smashed it down on the guard's head, knocking him unconscious. Ron awoke with a snort, and Hermione and Tom scrambled to their feet.
Harry was digging through the guard's robes, until he found what he was looking for. "Here!" he called, tossing Tom was redwood wand. "You're the best at spells—keep us covered." The three of the followed him out of the cell and down the hall. Already, they could hear guards hurrying to stop them; they had heard the commotion Harry had made in knocking the guard out.
"Under the cloak!" Harry hissed. "We can all fit; we just won't be able to move very quickly." The four of them slipped beneath the velvety fabric. Because Tom was so tall, their feet were practically visible, but they took no note of this.
"How come they didn't confiscate this from you, Harry?" Hermione realized suddenly, peering over her shoulder to look at the boy. His face suddenly turned very red and he smiled sheepishly.
"I—err—hid it in my trousers…..knew they wouldn't both looking there." Hermione's disgusted face was enough to make Harry and Ron laughed. As they reached the staircase, Ron started going down, while Tom made to go up.
"What are you doing?!" they said together, rounding on one another. "I'm going the right way!"
"The exit's this way, in case you had forgotten, Riddle," Ron hissed, glaring at the dark-haired boy fiercely. Harry dragged the three of them into a corner, wincing as the two boys' voices grew louder.
Tom sneered at him. "So eager to run, like a coward, Hurst, and you've already forgotten that we're missing something: our evidence."
"You kidding?" The redhead blustered. "D'you want to risk getting locked up again? We don't have time for this! We're just going to have to tell the Ministry wizards exactly what we know—they can even use Veritaserum—"
"They won't bother!" Tom snapped. "They don't want us to be right—you saw how Travers acted! They won't accept anything but cold hard facts."
"Fine, have it your way!" Ron snapped, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly. "And you lot are with him, then?" He asked, nodding to Harry and Hermione. They shared a look, suddenly uncomfortable.
"He is right, Ron. Don't you think if we came all this way, and ran out at the last minute it would be an awful waste?"
"So, what are we going to do?" Harry whispered anxiously, hearing the pounding of the guards' footfalls above.
Tom twirled the wand thoughtfully in his hand. "I'm going to have to face him." He decided suddenly. "That's the only way he's going to comply—"
"Are you mad?" Hermione practically shrieked, not even letting him finish. "Tom, I know you're a brilliant wizard, but he's the general of an army. He knows his stuff. It isn't like dueling club—he could kill you!"
Tom smirked at her, stepping closer to her and leaning down so that they were nearly eye-level. "As….touching as your concern my well-being is, Hermione, I'm afraid you simply can't convince me otherwise."
"You're being stupid!" She raged, punching him in the shoulder forcefully, even more irritated when he did not budge. "It's just you and your stupid pride—"
"Oh, it has nothing to do with the general himself," Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes. "His master has something that interests me greatly."
Hermione's eyes widened in realization. "Tom, no!" She grabbed his arm as he made to slip out from beneath the invisibility cloak. "You are not going to duel Grindelwald! You won't win, it's—"
He quite suddenly hushed her, pushing her against the wall and waiting in silence. Moments later, a group of six or so guards came around the corner, lined up in formation. Tom flicked his wand, sending three of this flying back into a wall, and before the other three could react, he knocked them unconscious.
"Why did you do that?" Harry asked, his mouth open wide. "Do you have any idea how much noise you just made?"
Riddle turned to him, arching his eyebrow in such a way that made Harry feel rather stupid. "They have wands, do they not, Mr. Macmillan?"
"Oh—err—yeah, I s'pose—"
Before either of them could say another word, another group of guards came around the corner. Harry, Ron and Hermione quickly summoned the wands into their hands and began to duel with the guards. This group was only slightly more competent then the last, so they had them all unconscious in a matter of moments.
Rubbing her sweaty hands on her trousers, Hermione looked around and realized with a painful jolt that Tom had disappeared. "Idiot," she breathed, and, without a word to Harry or Ron, she raced up the stairs that she presumed he had taken.
Hermione heard voices, and she pressed herself against the wall, listening intently. She could only make out two figures in the hall, and she could wager a guess on who both of them were.
"You're very brave, boy. Grindelwald admires that sort of bravery—the type of man who knows that a job will only be done well if he does it himself." The sneer on the General's face was absent at the moment, replaced by a look of consideration as he studied Tom.
The younger boy laughed coldly. "It's a pity I don't follow anyone else's orders. I'm above that, you know."
"Naturally," the General said coolly. "Well, I suppose if you are not going to accept my offer, I am going to have to kill you and your little friends. Shame, really. You all would've made such good soldiers." He paused. "Especially your pretty little Mudblood." She saw Tom's shoulders tense, and fingered her wand, wondering if she should help him. He would not be pleased; he had seeked this out on his own and he would want to finish it on his own. She realized that the General was still speaking, and that Tom's form was growing more and more rigid with every word. "In fact, maybe I'll keep her alive. The guards are always grateful when I present them with a new…toy."
Hermione could not follow Tom's arm as he sent a hex towards the General, who easily deflected his, his teeth gleaming in the dim light as he grinned widely at Tom, who looked concentrated as he sent another spell at the General. This time, the older man actually stumbled, and his grin vanished.
"Fine, let's play."
Tom sent spells at him so fast that Hermione wondered if it was an illusion, but the General seemed to have no trouble keeping up. Hermione winced every time the older man shot out the familiar stream of green light, but it never came anywhere near Tom, who was all-too-good at avoiding death.
And then Tom threw the General off. "Crucio!" the Slytherin cast and it hit its mark. The General dropped his wand, groaning as he fell back against the wall, clawing at the stone. The smirk on Tom's face was chilling. Hermione knew that, even though many considered Grindelwald the most evil wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort was known for having the most painful and powerful torture curse.
Hermione stood from her hiding place and summoned the General's wand into her hand. Tom took no note of her; his eyes were glued to the man writhing on the floor, his face contorted in agony, such agony—
She placed one hand on his waist and the other on his shoulder. "Tom," she breathed into his ear, standing on her toes so she could reach. "Tom, that's enough. Knock him out and be done with it." For a moment, she thought he was going to ignore her—that he would torture him until….until…
But then he sighed, breaking the spell with a sharp wand movement and lowering his wand. The General lie on the floor, gasping, and Hermione could tell by his reaction that, unlike Lord Voldemort, Grindelwald didn't regularly practice dark spells on his followers. "Stupefy," Tom murmured, looking annoyed.
Harry and Ron appeared at the end of the hallway. "Mione!" they shouted simultaneously. "You alright?"
"Fine," she said shortly.
Harry's eyes fell on the General. "Blimey," he gasped. "What did you do to him?"
"Just a very intense duel, is all," Hermione said quickly. "Then we knocked him out for good measure."
Tom looked sharply at her, raising his eyebrows questioningly, but she simply touched the back of his hand.
"Right," Harry said, nodding but not looking entirely convinced. "Well look, Ron and I got most of the guards out—we waited under the invisibility cloak and knocked them out as they came, but there's probably more on the way, so we should probably take this bloke and scram—"
"Oh, no," said a voice from behind them, and all four of them whirled about. "I do not zink zat vould be advisable at all." Hermione swallowed thickly, blindly reaching for Tom's hand.
"Grindelwald," she said softly, and he smiled at her. She could tell, even now, that he had been very handsome in his youth. His curly blonde hair was now flecked with grey in spots, but his eyes were still bright and eager.
"Yes. And you are ze little brats who have been destroying my fortress. Albus sent you to fight me, did he?"
"No, I sent myself for that." Hermione felt relief unfurl in her stomach as she turned to see Dumbledore, in all his glory, standing in the doorway, his face colder than she had even thought it possible to be. "Leave them out of this, Gellert, they are just children."
The blonde man laughed coldly. "Ah, but zat is ze issue. Ze are children that have interfered vith adult matters."
"Deal with me, Gellert, not them!" Dumbledore said sharply, his eyes flashing. Hermione watched his wand cautiously as he pushed the four of them behind him. Was this it? Were they about to witness the famous final confrontation between Dumbledore and Grindelwald?
Behind his back, Dumbledore shoved something into her hand. She looked down, and realized that it was an empty box of lemon drops.
"Professor, what—?" She whispered, eyeing Grindelwald warily.
"Three minutes, Ms. Macmillan," he muttered back, and immediately, everything clicked. She screamed as a spell collided with the bit of wall above her head.
"Get down!" she shrieked at Ron and Harry, who were standing, staring between the two grown wizards nervously. Tom crouched beside her, his face dark with fury. "What?"
Before he could answer, he pushed her aside and she rolled, just avoided a vicious slicing hex. Dumbledore and Grindelwald's spells were flying ever which way. Gritting his teeth, Riddle conjured a shield, encasing the four of them in it.
"Grab him!" she commanded Harry, and he pulled the still-unconscious body of the General into their little huddle. "Whatever you do, do not let him go!"
Harry's gaze was baffled. "Hermione, what are you talking about?" She held out the empty box of lemon drops.
"Hold onto it. We'll have about a minute, now." she told him, and he understood, grabbing the box with one hand, and the General with the other. Ron clasped onto one of the corners of the box. Hermione looked around anxiously, seeing Tom hovering around the corner of the hall. "Tom, get over here!" She shouted over the chaos of spells colliding.
He turned to her, and Hermione could've sworn that his eyes flashed red for a moment. "Stop trying to play hero!"
His laugh was high and cold and it made the hairs on Hermione's neck stand on end. "I'm not trying to play hero," he informed her before turning back to the battle. She saw his eyes intent on something, and realized that they were glued to Grindelwald's wand.
She jumped to her feet, tugging on his face to make him look at her. "Tom, you can't have that wand! Even if Dumbledore wins, what are you going to do, win it from him? Don't waste your time Tom!"
"Hermione!" Harry called nervously as the portkey began to glow. Tom's eyes flickered once more back to the wand, and then to Hermione's face. Grunting dissatisfiedly, he grabbed her hand, and Hermione dove for the portkey, getting a finger on it just as it disappeared into mid-air.