A/N: Thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews!
I am sorry how long it took me to write this. This chapter was hard and things in RL were busy. I ended up writing this chapter in two different ways and added 11k words to my graveyard. Crazy.
I was asked to do a fan cast for Sigurd and Abraxas a while ago and I thought about it a lot. I think I would cast Jude Law as Sigurd and Dan Stevens for Abraxas.
18
Previously:
"Not everything requires magic. Sometimes it just takes muscle and will, Elskede." Sigurd murmured. Hermione looked at him properly for the first time all day. He had his leather armor on, his sword over his shoulder, a whip curled on his hip, and his long blond hair braided back away from his face. If anyone could muscle their way into Hogwarts, it would be Sigurd.
**HGHG**
"Tick Tock, Cousin," Voldemort called. Hermione gritted her teeth and nodded, giving Draco's hand a final squeeze.
"Come for me," She whispered. Louder, she addressed Voldemort. "I will come but I have two conditions. I want to talk to Dolohov first and I want the boy released to my people."
"Hermione," Abraxas whispered in warning. "we may not be able to get to you in time if you do this."
"That is why I need to talk to Dolohov. You said that he believes this note was written by me. If that is so, I will use it. I will do what I must!" She whispered back, feeling sick at the thought of using anyone and their feelings. Draco's hand slipped out of hers, holding on until the very last second. Staring across the divide, she threw her shoulders back and walked to the gate where Voldemort met her to let her through.
"Very well," Voldemort hissed.
There was a moment where silence reigned over both sides as they watched Hermione cross over into enemy territory. Each step she took was another away from safety, her family. And she couldn't turn back to watch them in fear that she wouldn't be able to go through with it. If that boy was to keep his fingers, she had to act quickly, there was no other option. Had he been her brother, she would have moved Heaven and Earth to get him back. As it was, Katie Bell, his older sister was in one of the fighter wings, helping them to bring down the wards around Hogwarts. She couldn't let her allies down.
Hermione felt the wards shimmer around her as she moved through them. It felt like she was walking through a wall of water but never actually getting wet. It was cold and made her gasp but two steps later, she was inside the gates and past the wards. The gates rattled behind her as they slammed closed, Voldemort's smile widening with each step forward she took.
He threw his arms wide and welcomed her into his embrace. An embrace that she refused to return as his arms snaked around her shoulders.
"Excellent," He hissed, pulling her into his gaunt frame. Hermione held back a shudder by sheer force of will and grimaced into the black robes surrounding her.
"The boy," Hermione demanded, standing as stiff as a board.
Voldemort pulled back and studied her, letting the victorious smile transform his skeletal and snake-like face.
"Of course,"
Dolohov released the boy and pushed him through the gate where Abraxas met him, taking him into his comforting embrace. Abraxas must have said something to Dolohov, because the dark man froze, fear overtaking his features.
"Everything alright, Dolohov?" Voldemort asked, his hissing voice a threat in its self. Dolohov seemed to come back to himself and shook off whatever it was that Abraxas had told him. He turned around and inclined his head.
"I'm fine," he said, a frown in his voice.
Hermione tensely waited in silence. Voldemort had his hands on her shoulders and Dolohov stood right next to her, a looming and intimidating presence.
"Hmm," Voldemort said, unamused.
"The agreement was that I would speak to Antonin, alone." Hermione reminded him rather saucily, overcompensating for the fear that raced through her veins. Voldemort's top lip curled in agitation, red eyes flashing with violence and barely contained patience. He may have agreed to the terms, but he didn't need her reminding him. Hermione nearly laughed hysterically at what thoughts she imagined were running through his head.
Releasing her, Voldemort moved away, keeping both of them in his line of sight. Hermione took a deep breath and faced Dolohov, moving so close that there was barely an inch between them.
"Antonin, why did you return to him? I can never be on his side. Don't you understand that? Not only that but what type of marriage could we possibly have if it starts out this way. Wouldn't you rather I choose you?"
"You and I both know, Hermione, that if he doesn't force you to marry me now, you will never go through with it. Do you think I am a stupid man? Did you think I didn't know it was the room manipulating me when it freed me? I'll admit for a solid hour I was convinced it was you who wrote that letter but once reason returned, I knew you would have never written that note. Even if you did feel that way. I would like to believe that I know you better than that. So, knowing now that I don't believe the letter, what do you want from me?"
"If I marry you, he will do the same thing to me that he did to Narcissa," She began but he cut her off before she could continue.
"No, you are his kin. He may tether you to him but he assures me that even tethered, you will be strong and your own person. He would never do to you what he did to her. She was nothing to him, an experiment, a traitor, nothing more. You are precious to us both. Would marrying me be so bad?"
"Marrying you would be against my will. What do you think?"
"You would learn to love me the way that I love you."
"No, Antonin, I would only resent and hate you for it."
"But I would have you just the same."
"You would only ever have the shell of me."
"What do you want from me?"
"Help me take down your master and I will offer you amnesty with time served. Merlin knows what you had to endure in that chamber."
"Having some of you is better than not having a claim on any part of you."
"You will not help me, then?"
"No,"
Hermione looked pained as if she truly thought him capable of being a better man than he was. She should have known that men like him, men that willingly followed a deranged master like Voldemort, could never live up to her standard of morality. He took what he wanted by any means necessary, and at the moment, what he wanted was her.
"But," he continued as he watched the disappointment cloud her face, "I will let you stall for a little while. I don't think it will help you, you are already inside the wards of Hogwarts, but I can do that much. The only thing it will cost you is that you must talk to me."
"What do you want to talk about?" She asked warily, grudgingly accepting the extra time he offered.
"Why not me?"
Oh, God. Did he want to do this now?
"I have already committed myself to the Malfoy family."
"If they had stayed dead like normal people, would it have changed anything?"
Hermione took a moment to deliberate, nodded as if deciding something, and turned towards the gate. She took Dolohov by the arm and turned him too.
"Do you see the Malfoy with the long hair and the sword?"
"Yes, but I don't know who that is. I've never seen him before."
"You wouldn't have. He was in an enchanted sleep for a thousand years. Do you know why he did that?"
Dolohov shook his head.
"He is a prophet and has seen visions of me. Now, I don't hold much stock in such things but in the room where I found him, the walls were covered in drawings of me. Hundreds of pictures and paintings and sketches. He searched for a way to come to me, and he passed down knowledge of me through the generations. The Malfoy family has protected me over and over again all because of that man. How can I or any woman for that matter, not love him?"
"And he just woke up one day and you were there?"
"Well, there was a little more to it than that, but yes."
"What if you never went back to the Manor after fleeing Hogwarts?"
"There was magic that Lucius cast before his death that connected me to the Malfoy properties. I would have returned eventually."
"If I had caught and married you then, his marrying you would never have been an option."
"But I escaped and I was able to protect Harry. Would you have done that for me?"
"Potter has been and will always be the Dark Lord's."
"I expected nothing less. I would eventually have found a way to escape or I would have killed you. It would have never worked between us."
The wards flickered around them, making the hair on her arms and neck stand on end. They broke with a shower of golden sparks and the iron gates were breached in seconds, Hermione's people surging into no man's land. Voldemort's forces met the full force of the Malfoys and their allies. Spells collided and pandemonium reigned.
Draco and Lucius were standing front and center, mowing through the grunts in the scattered and unprepared vanguard. Sigurd was off to the far side, swinging his mighty sword. Each cut was death and it wasn't long before his enemies fled from him in fear. He was blood-spattered, flecks of gore sparkling in his hair, and his wide white smile looked more like a grimace. Abraxas was on the other side of Lucius and Draco, staring past the macabre dance to the other solitary unmoving figure on the battlefield. Voldemort and Abraxas were locked in a motionless battle, neither advancing, neither turning away.
Hermione pulled out her wand and turned it on Dolohov who was staring at her with a knowing look, the loss of her was crippling and it shone from his eyes. A twinge of unease spread from her stomach and she felt dirty. Dirty because the room had used his love for her to torture him and she took every last ounce of hope he had and dashed them on the ground, grinding them into dust. She did not mince words when she told him that even if the Malfoy's were to die, she would die herself rather than be his wife. This wound was so profound that she felt as if she had sliced into his jugular with a knife. Perhaps that would have been kinder.
"Stupefy," Hermione yelled. Dolohov hadn't moved, hadn't drawn his wand. He only watched her as she leveled her wand at his chest, unmoving as she sent a spell flying at him. It was almost certainly relief, that she saw on his face as he fell backward, unconscious.
Turning quickly, she raised a shield around her and took stock of the situation. Draco was locked in a duel with Theodore Nott, the boy he had once been friends with at school. Lucius had just delivered the finishing blow to Avery, sending him spiraling through the air before hitting the ground. Abraxas and Voldemort were still locked in their silent duel, both staring unflinchingly, neither moving. Hermione rolled her eyes and weaved through the melee and sent a stunner at Voldemort so strong, that it would have knocked out anyone nearby from the kickback.
As it was, it only hit Voldemort's shield and instead of rebounding, it was absorbed into the very structure of the shield, pulsating with strength. Hermione realized a second later that by attacking him she was feeding the shield. It was ingenious really, to make a shield that imbued the spells that were hurled at it, making it even stronger with each strike.
As she stood, considering how to take down such a shield, Draco sent a green spell that shattered the shield, Voldemort's wand clutched in his hand. A wand that had a new master and Draco had no compunctions in using it against its former owner. Voldemort growled in irritation and made his first mistake of the day. He turned his back on Abraxas who moved swiftly, landing a severing charm on his Achilles tendon.
Voldemort went down with a scream, disapparating before he hit the ground.
"Don't worry, Granger," Draco said. "the Order raised wards around the perimeter that prevent him from leaving. Wherever he disapparated to, he is somewhere here at Hogwarts. We will find him. This ends here, today."
Hermione nodded and helped Lucius bind and send their prisoners into cages in the chamber. The only place they could possibly hold them where their lord and master couldn't break them out. Order members had chased the ones that ran and battles continued, unabated around them. She caught sight of Harry and she could have sworn if she didn't know better, that she had seen her mother wielding a wand. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to her task.
"I wonder where Abraxas went off to," Lucius muttered, searching the still-battling pairs for the telltale Malfoy blond. Hermione looked around after sending off the latest foe with the Malfoy signet ring, she had been gifted only moments before.
Sigurd was also nowhere to be found and Hermione began to panic. What if something happened to them while she was doing grunt work? Work that could be foisted off to one of the younger Order members.
Lucius watched her panic when she couldn't find the elder Malfoys but didn't stop her from leaving him to send the prisoners away. He knew that it had completely escaped her that only a Malfoy could use the rings to send prisoners into the chamber. In fact, he doubted that she realized the significance of holding the ring at all. It wasn't something that Lucius was inclined to tell her while they were still in battle. Maybe later, when things were settled and they claimed her for their own. There was power in her acceptance or refusal, even if the refusal was 'not right now'. He wouldn't take that kind of risk.
Gesturing to one of the Order members, he directed the nameless fighter to grab a friend and start levitating their enemies so he could dispatch them easier. He needed to rejoin the fray but only after he knew that these opponents were unable to pick up their wands against them again.
If only he could find a simpler way to contain them without taking so much of his time. His head snapped back and a smile spread on his face. Wouldn't it make more sense to create a temporary and portable extension of the room so that anyone can be put in but no one can get out without a Malfoy? Concentrating on what he wanted, a huge cage materialized in front of him, warded to the nines. No one would leave the confines of the cage without the deliberate intervention of a Malfoy. After explaining the function of the portable jail, he left the younger and more inexperienced fighters to round up their fallen enemies and push them through. He made sure that they understood the danger of touching the bars; for anyone stupid enough to do so would be sucked in and trapped just as surely as their enemies. With a nod, they indicated their understanding and Lucius was off, following behind Hermione, searching for the rest of his family.
Hermione kept her shield up, dodging and weaving through the battles interspersed in the courtyard and made her way into the castle. Stepping over the jewels and glass that littered the floor from the large hourglasses that once kept track of house points, Hermione slipped between the unhinged doors of the Great Hall. The sight that met her eyes made her catch her breath. Voldemort and Eliza Granger stood facing each other, wands leveled.
How was it even possible? Eliza had died years ago just after the school fell. Hermione's heartbeat pounded as if trying to escape its flesh and bone prison.
"Mummy?" Hermione gasped, distracting the participants. She stepped forward reaching out to her mother and noticed the absolute rapture on her mother's face. "How are you here? I thought you were dead."
"Oh sweetie," Eliza said with a soft smile and tearing eyes. With herculean effort, Eliza tore her gaze from Hermione and hardened as she landed her piercing gaze upon her enemy, her wand raised and centered on his chest.
"What a cruel trick you are playing on the girl, Bellatrix," Voldemort crooned to Eliza. Hermione's brows met with confusion. She tried to be silent as she moved forward, not daring to distract the woman who looked remarkably like her mother and unintentionally causing her death.
"It's not cruel if I intend on being exactly that which was lost. I am Eliza. Bellatrix died days ago in the living room of the Granger house."
"You can't win against me, Bellatrix, I thought you were smarter than that." Voldemort seemed wary but relaxed as if he were merely stalling for time. Sigurd stepped from the shadows, his face unrecognizable in the dark, the only identifier was his sword which the pommel was tightly wrapped in his hands. Each step was silent and measured as he stalked his prey, unseen, just like a large cat.
Hermione lifted her wand intending on dealing the final blow herself.
"Uh uh uh," Voldemort said, flicking his wand in Hermione's direction without ever looking at her. He reached up and caught the wood, smirking at the woman in front of him.
"They are in here," Draco yelled as he and Lucius forced the broken doors out of the way.
Voldemort and the woman began dueling. Each flick of the wand was deadly, each dodge was like a dance, as the two powerful beings battled for dominion. It was beautiful in a macabre way as the spells ricocheted around the room, heating and cracking the stone beneath their feet.
The battle flowed into the Hall, pushing Hermione towards the walls in the back, separating her from the only fight that mattered. She was forced into evading a Death Eater that she had never seen before, noticing the rest of the Malfoys were too far away to help. She couldn't watch Eliza or Bellatrix or whoever she was battling against Voldemort and it frustrated her. But her enemies kept coming, stepping over their brethren to take her down. There was no way in Hell that she would allow that. So, until she either retrieved her wand or won another, she was stuck dodging, desperately making her way closer to the dueling pair.
**HGHG**
Bellatrix concentrated solely on the man in front of her, refusing to lose focus. Determination burned within her, battling fiercely with the euphoria of Hermione calling her Mummy. Oh, to hear Hermione call out to her again, to claim her as her own. Bellatrix would do anything, anything, to hear those words again.
The only threat that she had to face before she could experience utter bliss was Voldemort, the man whom she had once cherished and desired above all. Until the torture chamber showed her the way her life should go.
When she shielded, he advanced and when she dropped her offense, he attacked. But she was fast, twirling on the balls of her feet, never letting him get the upper hand. She let the spells fly past her face and warm her cheeks they were so close. Voldemort was snarling at her now, dropping the taunting revelations he began with. She was too powerful for that. It was something Hermione had in common with her. That, and the curly hair.
She ducked to the right expecting him to send a spell to her left but was horrified to see the acid green light of the spell was aimed at Hermione.
Adjusting her movements, she flung herself in front of the offending spell. If she had been thinking rationally, perhaps she would have raised a shield or flicked it out of its current path but she didn't. Her body was full of emotions, ideas that Hermione might actually consider her as her mother someday.
The spell ripped into her, tearing flesh away from the bone, cracking ribs, and splattering blood in an arch around her body. She hit the stone with a resounding thud, pain overtaking her mind. Being unable to move was a special kind of torture as Voldemort laughed and stepped over her, heading towards Hermione.
"Over my dead body," Bellatrix whispered through clenched teeth. With every last bit of strength that she possessed, Bellatrix grabbed his leg as he stepped over her, forcing him to fall hard on his knees.
"How dare you," He hissed dangerously, turning his newly acquired wand between her eyes. Bellatrix smiled as blood bubbled out of the corner of her mouth, staining her teeth.
"You will never have her. She would rather die and so would I. Avada Kedavra." The spell was like silk against skin- Delicious- But it sailed over his shoulder and hit one of the fighters behind.
"You dare turn your wand against your master? For her? For our enemies?" His upper lip curled with fury and revulsion. "Obli…"
Sigurd came up behind him, resting the sharp edge of his blade against Voldemort's jugular, preventing him from finishing his spell.
"Don't," Sigurd said, using his sword to suppress his enemy.
"Do it then. I will just come back stronger than ever." Voldemort said, still staring at Bellatrix who was beginning to fade. All the color had leeched from her skin, flowing out of her at a faster rate than her pooling blood.
Sigurd smiled his macabre smile and hoisted Voldemort up by the back of the robes.
"I have merely come to invite you to meet your maker. If that means I will have the pleasure of making that a yearly or decade ritual, so be it." He drew his sword back from Voldemort's neck and swung, meeting only fabric as the bastard disapparated, once again playing hide and seek in the castle or grounds. "Fuck!" Sigurd yelled.
Kneeling next to Bellatrix, he began knitting some of the less serious wounds together, unable to do more.
"You heard him call me Bellatrix. Why are you helping me?"
"I have my reasons." He said cryptically.
Bellatrix turned away from him and coughed. A blood clot landed on the stone next to her head.
"Medic!" Sigurd yelled and sighed in relief as Severus landed on his knees next to them. Once he was sure Severus would do all he could to save this woman, Sigurd left, stalking out of the castle. It was time to hunt and there was no prey that he understood better than a powerful adversary.
**HGHG**
A cry from across the room distracted Hermione, allowing a Death Eater to land a singing jinx on her thigh. She winced but sighed in relief as Draco stepped forward, cutting off the man who had landed a spell on Hermione, retribution in his eyes. Leaving Draco to exact his revenge, Hermione struggled to get to the dais. With dawning horror, she realized that whoever that woman was, fell beneath Voldemort's wand. Her only consolation was that Voldemort was on his knees next to her.
By the time she got to the woman, Voldemort had disappeared. Severus was hunched over the woman, furiously healing the grievous wounds she had sustained fighting Voldemort. Hermione fell to her knees next to the woman and lifted the head onto her lap, smoothing the familiar curls off her mother's face.
"Mum?"
"I couldn't bring her back, Poppet." Bellatrix gasped laboriously, grunting as bones popped back into place and important organs were stitched back together. "I tried. I used whatever spells and potions I could find. It should have been enough but no matter what I did, I couldn't bring her back. I didn't want to disappoint you."
Hermione felt sick and a tear trailed down her face as she realized that Bellatrix Lestrange gave up her entire existence just to give her mother back to her. Pity rose in her throat and it battled with resentment. This was the woman who tortured her. The woman who tortured Neville's parents into insanity. How could there possibly be redemption for one such as Bellatrix?
Hope flared in Bellatrix's eyes as Hermione continued stroking her hair. She was like a child and would be so easy to please. Hermione also knew that she would be just as easy to break. One word is all it would take and Bellatrix would be no more than ward mates with the Longbottoms.
Hermione dug deep inside herself and made the most important decision in her whole entire life. What kind of person was she and what world did she want to leave behind when she was gone? She swallowed and resolved that when this was all over she would seek counseling but for now, she pasted a trembling smile to her lips. If this would stop perpetuating the cycle, then it was for the betterment of the future. Kindness, after all, didn't cost anything. Forgiveness was harder. It would cost her, her hate and that left her with a curiously empty feeling. If she didn't have hate, what did she have? And that scared her more than anything.
"I will try to forgive you, Bellatrix." Hermione continued stroking her hair and Severus stayed silent but his eyebrows were in his hairline.
Bellatrix cried. Ugly wracking sobs that were hindering her healing.
"Don't cry," Hermione said, pity dancing in her eyes. "You and I have a lot to talk about once this is over. Get better so I can yell at you and hug you and perhaps one day we can be friends."
"Friends?" Bellatrix sobbed despairingly.
"Yes. You are not actually my mother and I need to be able to mourn her. I want to find out who you really are underneath these rabid beliefs. Can you become a better person? We will see. Whatever we come to be towards each other in the future depends on this."
Draco walked up behind Hermione and sank to his knees, worn out. He pulled Hermione back into his body and kissed her shoulder. The fighting in this room had abated except for a few around the periphery of the room. Lucius was directing the Order to take the prisoners to the cage on the green, outside. The fighting from other places in the castle rang through the halls, calling the combatants to arms. Abraxas was still missing and Sigurd slipped away only moments ago.
**HGHG**
Sigurd moved stealthily through the halls, keeping his head cocked, following the slight scent of magical apparition. One of his hands were wrapped around the hilt of his sheathed sword, ready to draw it at a moment's notice. Each footstep was silent- toe to heel- his back to the wall.
In front of him, a door opened and Harry walked out, smirking. Sigurd peeked into the room shocked at the neat pile of robed Death Eaters that laid in the middle of the room.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, noticing Sigurd for the first time.
"I am hunting."
"Oh yeah?" Harry asked, amusement pulling his lips up. "What are you hunting?"
"Not what, but who. Voldemort managed to escape from me in the Great Hall. I will not make such a stupid mistake again. When I find him, I will end him and when he comes back, I will end him again."
"He can't come back unless he made a new Horcrux but I don't believe he did," Harry said, falling in behind Sigurd, keeping as close to the wall, wand out.
"He made Horcruxes?" Sigurd whispered, revolted.
"Yup,"
"What a creepy fucker," Sigurd muttered. Harry snorted from behind him. Harry's words kept running through his mind until he stopped abruptly, turning just enough to pin Harry with his steely gaze. "Are you saying that if I kill him now, he will meet his final death?"
"That is what we believe, yes," Harry confirmed. Sigurd's smile widened, the tightening of the skin made the blood flake off of his face, leaving curious little bare patches around his slight dimples.
"Can you do something for me?"
"Sure,"
"If what you are saying is true, I have a way to end this, once and for all. Go to the Great Hall and find Hermione. Stay with her. It will all end soon."
With a nod, they parted. Sigurd still stealthily moving through the castle and Harry making his way to the Great Hall.
**HGHG**
Hermione stiffened as a familiar voice whispered in her ear.
"Walk out of the Hall and go to the Potions classroom. I will be waiting, Cousin."
Hermione swung around, searching the air around her for any signs of Voldemort under disillusionment. There was nothing there but the hair on her neck was still standing on end, Draco's chin resting on her other shoulder. She had no doubt that he had been standing right behind them only moments ago.
Leaving the safety and warmth of Draco's arms, Hermione stood. Now that she knew Bellatrix would live, she knew what had to be done now. This was it. This was the ending that they all needed.
"He is in the Potion's classroom," Hermione told them, not meeting their eyes. Draco and Lucius nodded, rising to their feet, leaving Bellatrix in Severus' care. Draco took her hand and wrapped her smaller one in his. It was comforting and loving and her chest felt like bursting. They were out in the entryway, heading into the dungeons.
"I love you," Hermione told Draco, staring at him as his lips quirked. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her fingers.
"I love you too, Granger. You sure know how to pick a moment." He smiled, chuckling to himself as they all walked down to the dungeons.
She reached forward with her free and slid it into Lucius'. He was tense, no doubt having heard what she told Draco. She smiled. If this was going to be the last time with either of them alive, she wanted them to know what she felt for them.
"Lucius, I love you too."
He paused and Draco and Hermione caught up with him. Draco laughed outright at the stunned look on Lucius's face.
"Are you surprised, Lucius?" Draco asked.
"I never thought," He began.
"What?" Hermione said.
"After everything I have done, I never expected to hear you say it. I only hoped that I could stay with you, near you, loving you. I never expected your love in return."
"After this is over, we are going to talk about this. Right now, we have only one goal. It's time to end this."
They were in front of the potions classroom before they realized and Hermione took a deep breath before pushing open the door.
**HGHG**
Abraxas was sitting in the Potion master's chair, looking around at the sparse decoration that Severus seemed to favor. Cradled in his hands was a vial filled with the silvery essence of a memory. A pensieve sat on the desk in front of him and he sat back, waiting for Voldemort. There was no doubt in his mind that he would come, it was only a matter of time. Their fight started here and it would end here.
Voldemort walked in dropping his disillusionment, coming face to face with his first ever failed servant.
"Abraxas," He hissed, narrowing his eyes at the pensieve and memory that the man held in his hands. "What's this?"
"This is a memory that I think you will be very interested in. Sigurd had a dream of you. Would you like to see it?" Abraxas swirled the vial, raising both eyebrows in invitation.
"A dream?"
"Prophecies, dreams. Po-tay- toe, Po-tah-toe. If you are not interested…" Abraxas made as if to drop the vial.
"Wait," Voldemort hissed, walking forward took the glass in his hands and popped the cork. He poured the liquid memory into the pensieve. "after you." Abraxas smirked and sank his face in the surface, followed almost immediately by Voldemort. The mist cleared as a battle formed around them.
Voldemort fell to his knees, his body weak and battered. Broken almost beyond repair. Keeping his shield raised, casting and reinforcing it every other minute. It was unable to stand against the power and knowledge of Draco who wielded his own wand. The wand that had served him so well ever since he bought it from Ollivander's as an eleven-year-old.
Voldemort struggled to complete his healing and blew out a breath of relief when he could hold his body weight. A full healing would have to wait. He stood, reinforcing his shield, despite knowing it could never hold against Draco. Turning to Hermione he smirked, aiming his next spell at her.
"Compedio," He said, an evil grin on his face.
Hermione was fast but not fast enough. Her head crashed against the ground and pain exploded behind her eyes. A heavy weight pinned her down and the crescendo of noise became deafening and jumbled. The wind was knocked out of her and she fought to breathe.
She blinked rapidly and after only a few minutes things came back into focus. Curly brown hair was threatening to choke her and she desperately tried to gather the hair. Her hair had been braided and pinned away from her face, knowing from experience that she wouldn't have time to sort her hair in the middle of a duel. But if it wasn't her hair, whose was it? The familiarity and nostalgia threatened to drown her.
She pushed the weight off of her with difficulty and rolled over to see the person who had saved her, taken the spell for her. For the second time that day, Hermione's breath was knocked out of her. With shaking hands, she gently pushed the mass of curls from the woman's face.
"Mum?" She whispered. The person below her lay unconscious and dying. Hermione shook the woman with more force and a great deal of panic and confusion entered her voice. "MUM!"
Eliza Granger blinked open her eyes and smiled once she finally recognized Hermione.
"Hermione," Eliza murmured. She stopped and closed her eyes, clenching he teeth from the pain.
"No, Mum! Stay with me! What are you doing here? I thought you were dead! For years and years. What is happening?" She sobbed, grateful to the wall of Malfoys that kept her from being attacked.
"I would do anything for you, darling. Anything." Eliza exhaled for a final time and for a moment, Hermione sat, waiting for the next word, for her eyes to open, for anything. With dawning realization, Hermione ran diagnostics on her. Horror and fury raced through her soul as all the diagnostics she cast told her the same thing. Her mother was dead. Just when she thought that maybe her mother had somehow survived.
Hermione screamed, releasing wild magic that pummeled anyone within a six-foot radius. Bringing them all to their knees. She stood, tears pouring out of her eyes and waved her wand with a vengeance, electricity crackling around her as she unconsciously summoned it from the very earth. For a moment, she wished she had Sigurd's sword. It would feel very satisfying to wield such a weapon in her grief.
Friends and foes alike stared at Hermione in awe. Lightening cracked around her in a halo of power. She pushed the Malfoys aside, intent on meeting Voldemort in battle. He had taken her mother from her twice. Grief made her strong and focused.
Sigurd went back to her mother and went on his knees, reaching out to close her eyes. Someone fell to their knees opposite of him and Sigurd looked up startled to see Harry Potter's face.
"I had seen her so often from the pictures Hermione had of her," Harry said. He nodded and whispered something into the dead woman's ear before standing and stiffly walking to Hermione.
He walked into her magical perimeter, standing at her side untouched by the magic she wielded. A feat that not even the Malfoys could perform as they struggled to stay upright as her magic lashed against their bodies.
A hush fell over the combatants as Harry and Hermione stood against Voldemort. Harry and Hermione had battled side by side for years and because of that, they were flawless in their attacks and defense. When she concentrated on the offense, Harry protected them from return fire.
Voldemort may have been the most powerful man in the battle that day, but he was by no means the most determined. They drilled him, forced him into a retreat, finally pinning him down against one of the castle walls.
Around them, the battle was stilted as everyone waited for the outcome of the most important battle. Once or twice, Voldemort tried to disapparated and failed as the wards the Order set prevented him.
Voldemort snarled at the duo, sending nasty spells flying at them, some of which they only barely managed to avoid and some that landed on the intended target. Hermione's right leg was a mass of bruises from hip to ankle. But it was ignored. There was nothing that she wanted more than Voldemort's death.
"Diffindo," Hermione said and smiled with satisfaction when it landed, leaving a bloody cut across his cheek. Her smile dropped immediately when Harry was hit, taken to his knees, clutching his stomach and gasping. In less than a moment, Hermione watched as her wand sailed in the air between them, landing with a smack in his open palm.
"What are you going to do now, Cousin?" You can't win against me. You should just surrender to me now. I promise that you will be treated like a princess. Dolohov is quite enamored with you, you know."
Hermione couldn't see anything without a veil of crimson overlaying the whole scene. Blood pounded through her ears. With a scream, Hermione ran towards Voldemort and wrapped his neck in her small hands. She was screaming at him. Ron was dead. Her mother and father dead. The Weasleys. Everyone was dead and it was all his fault.
Voldemort continued his casting at her but quickly abandoned the tactic as his spells merely bounced off of her, rebounding and hitting the stone behind his head. His hands scrabbled against her arms but the electrical current that ran over her skin prevented him from getting a good grasp. Her grip alone wouldn't have done anything to him but this power that rose from her very core was unlike anything else he had ever encountered. It was strangling his magic, drawing it forcefully from his body. He imagined that it was exactly how Narcissa felt every time he drew from her magical well and began to frantically fight against the small witch.
"Avada Kedava," a deep voice muttered, sending the jet of green light over Hermione's shoulder and hit Voldemort in the center of his head. Voldemort slumped out of her grasp and she stared at his body unblinkingly, uncomprehending that is was over. That Voldemort was dead.
Arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back into a familiar chest.
"Okay, Granger?" Draco asked as he pulled her away from Voldemort. He was still holding Voldemort's former wand in a tight fist, fearing that the evil despot would be coming back from the dead despite their fevered attempts to ensure his final death. Hermione nodded. She wasn't okay but that was normal, right?
Sounds of battle filled her ears again as the Order captured prisoners or chased Death Eaters across the grounds. Severus was on his knees next to Harry, healing the deep slash that opened his stomach. His arms were the only thing that kept them inside but his blood was pumping out onto the grass.
Voldemort and Abraxas pulled out of the memory and they stared at each other.
"This is obsolete. I already dueled with this woman and I didn't kill her."
"If you say so," Abraxas said with a smirk.
The door flew open and Hermione stepped in holding Lucius and Draco by the hand. Voldemort's lip curled and fear rolled off him in waves. Standing in front of him were the two people that were destined to kill him if that memory prophecy was anything to go by. He growled, hating that he needed to run. The tactical retreat was the only opportunity he had that might win him the war. With a loud crack, he was once again gone.
"What happened?" Lucius asked shrewdly.
"I showed him Sigurd's prophecy."
"Excellent." Lucius smiled and his hand tightened around Hermione's. "It's time."
**HGHG**
Bellatrix sat up and hung her head. She couldn't even look Snape in the eyes. She had done such terrible things.
"What did you do?"
"I became her, Eliza Granger."
"Those are dark spells and they are never permanent. They cause madness and schizophrenia. It takes more than thirty years off of your lifespan."
"My life before was not worth living. Isn't it better to do good for a day than evil for a lifetime?"
Snape shook his head and said, "No matter what, you are still not her mother. This is cruel, even for you."
"I would die for her," Bellatrix raised her head defiantly. She vehemently disagreed with him. This was the best she could do for Hermione. The only thing that may earn her redemption from the young witch. No matter the consequences, it was worth it.
