Author's Note: Going to answer reviews first on this one as I'm writing this from a plane, and it's hard to navigate around.
ViviTheFolle - Ah well, that's too bad about the basilisk. Voldemort is definitely planning something, but Hermione pretty much knows what it is. Voldemort knows this, and just doesn't care. If he gets the stone he'll be truly invincible, and he's willing to weather whatever Hermione or Dumbledore have planned for him.
merendinoemiliano - Harry surviving wasn't a part of Voldemort's plan. He underestimated Harry and paid for it, although the strategic purpose for his attack on Harry was simply to act as a distraction. But here Voldemort knows full well Harry is a horcrux, and is unlikely to initiate any moves against him in the future. You can be sure that he'll hide his horcruxes a lot better than in cannon, and they're almost entirely inaccessible.
Chapter 34 - The Granger Crush
Ron had jumped at the chance to save Ginny, even if it meant facing down Lord Voldemort himself. Harry had too. Even bloody Severus Snape, even Sirius Black had.
"Don't feel guilty, Hermione," said The Illusory Ronald from beyond The Veil. "It's unreasonable for anyone to ask you to be a hero."
Hermione smiled. She laughed. Because she knew full well that good people existed…
She just wasn't one of them.
She'd like to be. She'd love to be. It seemed like ever so much fun to be truly good. To so truly embody love.
For all her intelligence, Hermione would never be a good person. She just couldn't. Whatever magic made someone good and selfless and able to truly care about anything more than themselves was simply missing in Hermione's soul. It wasn't a thing she could do anything about. She just wasn't a good person truly, and she never could be, no matter how hard she tried. Harry and Ron had known that, and that was why, after she'd refused to go with them after Ginny, they hadn't been disappointed. Even Headmaster Dumbledore had never expressed any dissatisfaction with her rather obvious sociopathy. In fact…
"Grindelwald, I know, thought himself a good man. He truly believed that everything he was doing was for The Greater Good. But the darkest of dark wizards was under no such illusions. He knew his plans were evil. He was quite smitten with a young wizard you see, and told himself he was simply making his nefarious plans to impress his crush. It was all for love, he thought. Hogwash! Truly a despicable excuse! Perverting the most sacred of magics! Luckily for the world, the menace was killed when he was only 18... Although… My greatest fear is not that he shall return, but that he never truly died in the first place!"
Unless she was quite off the mark, and she rarely was on such matters, Headmaster Dumbledore did not begrudge Lord Voldemort for being incapable of love, but rather his lack of shame. Tom Riddle was a sociopath. Hermione was a sociopath. They were both geniuses. And when Tom had realized he could not solve Albus's test, he'd humbled himself enough to force the student that most reminded him of himself to help. And that was just… Narcissistic beyond even Hermione.
He couldn't love. Fine. Nobody chose to be born the way they were, and Voldemort could no more be selfless, than someone like Ronald might match Hermione's raw intellect. But the problem was that he didn't value love, the importance it held to others and wonder what he was missing. To find someone so valuable you'd lay down your life for them, that was real purpose, oh how must the world seem! It was beauty, it was light, and if something deep, fundamental to Hermione's essence prevented her from truly experiencing such love herself she was honored she could bask in the warmth provided by those who could.
The Veil of Humility.
"Quirinus, would you be a dear and Disillusion yourself, our master, and Ginevra," ordered Hermione. "I'll need to think I'm alone for what happens next."
Hermione could accept the fact that she was a sociopath. So could Tom Riddle. The difference was that Hermione didn't think that those who were selfless were the fools. She had wisdom enough to realize she was the fool.
Tom Riddle had come to the wrong person.
Hermione Granger was completely unsuited to solving The Veil of Humility.
…Ron could have though…
And so Hermione began to perform a False Memory Charm on herself. Slowly transforming from Hermione Granger to Ronald Weasley, all the while Barty Crouch Junior's words rang in her ear. "Most witches and wizards, and even muggles for that matter, are intelligent enough to determine when their memories are faulty. The lie must be believable, or it won't last longer than a few moments. Remember that."
… Ron blinked. Where was he… Huh? Something seemed off about well, bloody everything… Everything? What could it be? The room was dimly lit and in the center was a giant veil. There was something hypnotic about it, the air around it unnaturally still, and between its arches was an opaque layer of some unknown fluid, oscillating around like the surface of an untouched pool. The room was quiet and tranquil, but although almost inaudible, he could have sworn he heard voices, whisperings…
He was thinking too much. Unlike that ninny Granger, Ronald didn't let himself get paralyzed by extraneous and likely irrelevant thoughts. Ginny was bloody dying, and it was up to him to bloody save her! Where the fuck was she?
But there was nothing in the room, just The Veil and six stone walls forming a regular hexagon around him. There wasn't even any sign of The Dark Lord, but he knew somehow that The Dark Lord was in the room, observing him. All unimportant, because he knew, deep-down, exactly where Ginny was.
He forced himself to look straight into The Veil. Beyond its surface, into its dark emptiness, its infinite depths. And as he stared into the abyss, the abyss stared back.
"Ron," said Ginny, gasping from beyond the veil. She had a single pin-sized puncture wound on her pinky, blood pulsing out of her slowly. She was growing more and more pale, and soon she would be dead. "Don't come. You'll die. And even if you save me, it'll mean bringing Him back to life."
She was right. Ginny would return with the philosopher's stone, and The Dark Lord would use it as soon as he brought it out. But it didn't matter. Ginny was his little sister. He loved her.
There was an inscription etched onto a stone near the entrance of The Veil.
The First Law.
Which was Equivalent Exchange.
Ron touched the veil. It was cold. He wasn't the brightest bloke around, but he was more than intelligent enough to know that beyond The Veil was death. To save Ginny's life he'd have to give up his own.
It felt like someone inside him was screaming. Trap! Trap!
Fuck it.
Ron bellowed, and charged into The Veil. Ginny disappeared, and everything vanished.
For a long time there was nothing, not even darkness, not even thought, no pain, no pleasure, no love and no hatred. After an eternity, or perhaps instantaneously, he noticed something: memories of memories of memories of a different time. In darkness, in warmth he began. And then there was light and coldness and shapes. Eventually he grew empty, crying and filling up, feeling better. Mum and Dad and family. School. Failure and success. Work and love and children. Fading… Fading… And then after an eternity of darkness, or perhaps instantaneously there was warmth. And then light and coldness and shapes. Hunger and milk and Mum and Dad. Work. Searching… Another and children and then fading… Fading… And then after an eternity of darkness, or perhaps instantaneously there was warmth….
On and on the cycle of existence continued. All past existences recalled. Details changed, but they were like pebbles on a beach, and in no life was their purpose, any reason. Always a feeling of being elsewhere. Always an emptiness at the core of existence itself. Perhaps it could be found in the future? In the past? But past and future were nothing more than illusions, neither had ever existed. Only the present, only a thought itself. There had to be something more… Something beyond…
Whispers… Something new… An alternative to existence…
Awareness of a novel presence. One no past life had ever experienced. The mystery.
Annihilation? A transformation? Impossible to comprehend.
Meaning was an abstraction which could never be found because it could not exist. Oughts were merely an illusion, all that had ever existed, all that would ever exist, were is. That truth was not dictated by the laws of the universe, materialism or dualism, heaven or hell or reincarnation or annihilation, even an all-powerful deity, but by something more fundamental than existence itself: logic.
"So come… Come… You will eventually, it is inevitable, so come…
"Become eternity."
Fuck. That. Shit.
"Ginny!" Ron roared, and pushed ahead somehow, splitting through nothingness itself, parting the very fabric of magic.
And there she was. A glowing supernova in a cold, dead universe. Small, and pretty, and more perfect than he'd ever be.
"Meaningless… Futile… She will come here eventually… She cannot solve the paradox of existen-"
"I don't bloody care!" Ron bellowed, giving Death a swat in its stupid bloody face. His knuckles cracked on something hard. A ruby red stone? Ron nicked it from Death, before the bloody wanker realized what he'd done.
"Hermione," said Ginny. "Truly a remarkable solution. You pass."
Eh? What the hell was The Veil trying to say? He wanted nothing to do with that vile girl! She was an annoying know-it-all, not half as smart as she thought she was, not to mention stubborn and- Ginny swam through the empty pocket dimension, and Ron followed her, until they arrived at a shimmering veil.
"Now go out there and save Ginny," said Ron's conception of Ginny.
He nodded, and swam to The Veil, but got no closer, the shimmering portal forever a star out of reach.
Death sighed contentedly. "This is against my nature… But what else can I do? When it comes to true love I can't help but break the rules."
Death slapped Ron's sweet arse, and he came tumbling out of The Veil into the cold dark Room of Requirement. A dark figure- with slits for nostrils, growing red eyes, and spider-like fingers delicately wrapped around a wand- glared down at him.
"Give me The Philosopher's Stone, Hermione," said You-Know-Who, his voice high and cold. "Give it to me at once!"
So You-Know-Who was the most powerful wizard on the entire planet. Ron had just faced down Death itself, and he wasn't about to give away the only hope he had of saving Ginny!
"Not on your life," bellowed Ron. But for some reason his voice was high-pitched and annoying, like that selfish wanker Hermione's. "I'll die before I give it to you."
"We had a deal," You-Know-Who screeched, his wand sparking. "An Unbreakable-"
"Honestly Quirinus," said a truly horrid demonspawn. "Look at yourself, Hermione. Your hair, your left wrist… other places."
Other places? What kind of? Wait, why was his hair so long, and why was it brown, and why did he have a bloody Dark Mark, and WAIT A DAMN MOMENT, WHERE HAD HIS BLOODY P-
Right, he was Hermione. She'd err… performed a False Memory Charm on herself, and… and she'd… She glanced at the blood red stone in her hand.
Hermione leapt in joy, she'd stolen the philosopher's stone for Lord Voldemort, hurrah!
She'd done it! She'd bloody done it! Oh what a genius she was! An unparalleled prodigy! She'd passed Albus's test- at great personal risk to herself (extremely heroinic)- and proven herself worthy of Beloved Ronald's affections. Oh, this had to be the single greatest accomplishment of her life, outsmarting the very smartest wizard in all the world!
"The Stone," said The Dark Lord hungrily. "The Stone. Give me The Stone."
And she'd gotten The Dark Lord the philosopher's stone… If he hid The Stone in a secure location, prepared pseudobodies next to his horcruxes, the destruction of his body would be reduced to an inconvenience. He'd been conservative in the past, the destruction of his body nearly destroying him, but with that risk removed… He could directly attack Dumbledore as many times as he wished, at little risk. The Order of the Phoenix would be extinguished in weeks if not days. He would be unstoppable, a devil made real… That was, if she gave it to him…
She checked her Dark Mark. Was Severus here yet? It shouldn't have taken so long. If he didn't arrive shortly, the magical world was sure to fall.
Oh what was she saying? As she'd said before, the philosopher's stone was the key to ensuring Lord Voldemort's resurrection!
Her heart hammered, her teeth chattered. There was little choice. Even without Quirrell, she'd made an unbreakable vow, and it simply wasn't in her nature to sacrafice herself.
"Here you are, one philosopher's stone, as ordered!" It did her little good to sound reluctant. Better to make herself seem a willing partner… She was merely acting rationally. Unlike Severus, who was surely waiting, on the edge of his toes, to see what the antagonist looked like at his full, world-shattering potential! Not that Hermione harbored any such nonsensical curiosity. Sure, sure, making The Dark Lord invincible, along with the guarantee of safety to anyone under her influence may appear to be a cynical play to leverage evil to increase her own power, but…
…Um…
The Dark Lord laughed as Quirrell took the stone, and his laughter wasn't high and cold. It was warm, like he was sharing a laugh with her. Hermione knew that he knew that she knew what she'd done. He knew she knew his plans. He'd never really tried to hide his intentions afterall. His only faulty prediction was that he thought she had some kind of plan to counter him. Why must she have one? When you could make a Dark Lord invincible, you did it, it was only common sense! Oh…
Dumb, dumb, dumb! Why in the world had she thought making a genocidal madman invincible was a good idea? Fun? Perhaps… Even now, terrified, she wasn't… Bored…
Avada Kedavra. Avada Kedavra. Her wand was still. She couldn't move. What was one life to the billions that would be lost, even if it was her own? And yet she couldn't bring herself to action. Nor even regret. She couldn't even stop smiling.
Quirrell uncapped a flask of what must have been elixir, and funneled it into floating rings, orbiting around the stone in every direction. Oh was that why she was smiling? She got to observe the philosopher's stone in action. If she could find inspiration, create a way to replicate the stone, then perhaps even an invincible Dark Lord would be worth the exchange. The stone and elixir glowed, emitting a red light that spread from the stone into the elixir, imbuing the liquid with some additional property.
Hmm… Well… Okay then…
Hermione understood the alchemy not at all. She hadn't been this lost since she'd tried to follow that horrid game of quiz-dirt or whatever it was called.
"Test it on the girl," The Dark Lord commanded. Despite the warmth of his voice, despite his infant form, there was no room for disagreement.
Quirrell pressed the flask to Ginny's lips and the puncture wounds on her neck closed immediately. Her eyes fluttered open and her skin quickly regained a healthy pinkish colour. Such healing! No incantation, no wandwork, just ingestion and Ginny was instantly cured of all her ailments. Hermione clapped her hands in excitement. Truly miraculous!
"A genuine philosopher's stone, as promised," Hermione said, at last recalling why she'd given The Dark Lord the stone. Why it was to save her friends; she was a good guy, if perhaps a little irrational. Blast her caring nature! "Now you're to heal the rest of my friends at once!"
"After I've returned to my body," said The Dark Lord. "Quirinus."
Quirrell bathed The Dark Lord in the elixir of life, and the emaciated baby's skin cleared up, dark hair sprouted on its head, its torso fattened, and its limbs lengthened, until it took the form of a rather handsome (if slightly pudgy) dark-haired man, with flecks of gray. Maybe a youthful sixty? He'd need to look around 65 for his plan to work, but apparently he was slightly vain.
The very picture of a retired war general. This was a man who'd fought the nazis on the frontlines, this wasn't another slimy politician, this was a man who truly wanted to return the United Kingdom to its former greatness. He was a man worthy of office, who wouldn't be pushed around with foreign heads-of-state, the type of person who could be trusted with launch codes. As expected, The Dark Lord was planning a coup against the Ministry. Just not the magic one.
Ginny screamed. Yes, even though the form lacked the primal terror invoked by a demon, the truth was that a kindly smile was far more dangerous.
"The warlock appearance is no longer necessary," said Tom, as Quirinus provided him with a stylish black suit. Tom quickly dressed himself, adjusted his tie, until he looked the very image of a muggle politician. A silver medal sparkled on his chest, an image of a lion engraved upon the middle of a cross. "I've other prey to decieve. A pleasure doing business with you Miss Granger... Now Quirinus, I banish you from my forces. On a completely unrelated note, as promised, I will tell you how to achieve true immortality. The first step of creating a horcrux is murder. Do you understand what I am saying, Quirinus?"
What?
Hermione trembled.
Oh dear… Yes, in retrospect it was quite apparent that the loophole she'd purposely included in their negotiation might be turned against her. But… But, she was hardly defenseless, this was the reason she'd spent so long training. Hermione reached for her wand, but her fingers struggled to find purchase, why were they so wet and slippery?
"I do," said Quirrell, raising his wand. "I've been training for this moment for my entire life."
Time out, time out, time out!
Oh god, oh god this was for real. Abra Kadabra, she could- wait what was it called again? Um expillarmistice? That was a real spell right?
Just do something if you don't want to be murdered you useless bint!
Hermione raised her wan- dropped it on the floor. Oh no, but maybe Ginny would do som-
"Avada Kedavra." A green light illuminated the room. Hermione dropped to her knees.
Quirrell fell to the ground. What?
"Hello Severus, Harry Potter," Lord Voldemort sighed. Yes, yes, she'd called for Professor Snape earlier… All part of her plans… All part of her… She felt urine trickling down her thigh for the third time that night. "I really had hoped to eliminate the girl. Ahh well… I've my body and The Stone…" The Dark Lord flicked his wand, sticking Harry to the ceiling. He smiled at Snape, and a green jet exploded from his wand.
A phoenix flashed in front of the curse, igniting into flames.
The Dark Lord smiled fondly. "Good. Dumbledore, you're here." He raised his wand.
"The most precious things are often the most fragile," said Headmaster Dumbledore mildly, pointing his wand not at The Dark Lord but at the philosopher's stone. He turned to Hermione. "Would you care for a lemon drop?"
The Dark Lord sighed. "You're just going to let me go? You cannot be such a fool."
"He made an unbreakable vow not to harm me," Hermione said. Finally, she understood her actions! Headmaster Dumbledore would never allow Voldemort to escape with the stone she'd nicked for him. The two most powerful wizards would duel, and even if The Dark Lord prevailed, Headmaster Dumbledore would surely destroy the stone. And if he couldn't even do that, then surely The Order of the Phoenix was better under her direction anyways. She, at least, would be able to guarantee safety from The Dark Lord for two years. Her actions had been entirely defensible, entirely logical, and not at all for her own amusement. All that was left was to witness what would surely be the greatest duel in history. She plopped the lemon drop into her mouth. Quite good. "He can't harm Harry, Ginny, or Ronald either. So go on then; have at it."
"I will escort you out," said Headmaster Dumbledore. "There will be no more bloodshed today. Professor Snape, would you please escort Mister Malfoy, Mister Potter, Miss Weasley, and Miss Granger to my office. We have much to discuss."
"Um…" Hermione said. "Are you sure that wise? If he secures the stone he will be all but invincible."
"Miss Granger," said Headmaster Dumbledore. "Enough. We will discuss the matter later."
Hermione shrugged. He must've had some kind of plan. He was Albus Dumbledore afterall, he wouldn't be so daft as to allow an invincible Dark Lord. He had some plan she wasn't seeing.
The Dark Lord laughed. "Plots. Schemes. Cleverness. Love and joy. Even power. All mere distractions, deceptions as all things are, to distract ourselves from the only enemy worth conquering. Perhaps your strategy and logic will be enough to resist me, but eventually, whether it be in a day, a year, or a century, you will perish and your resistance will crumble. For your help I will give you a word of advice: flee." He smiled. "And do avoid large coastal urban centers, won't you?"
And with that, The Dark Lord left the room with Headmaster Dumbledore.
"Granger," said Professor Snape, his skin a pallid yellow. "You had better know what you're doing… Two points from Slytherin, for gambling the lives of billions and resurrecting The Dark Lord."
Hermione bristled indignantly, because surely Headmaster Dumbledore had a brilliant plan. "But professor!"
"It's not her fault," said Harry, standing in front of her protectively. "She was just doing it to save Ginny. She didn't have a choice!"
"I hate to defend Granger," said Draco. "But if she had to give You-Know-Who The Resurrection Stone to save Ginevra, then she made the right choice. There's no replacing a girl with genuine class."
See? Reasonable people agreed with her. Hermione couldn't quite keep herself from smirking. "Harry and Draco are right. It's not like I wan- It's not like I had a choice in the matter. I love Ginny ever so much. I've been through a very traumatic ordeal so do please try to be sensitive."
Ginny glowered. "You should have let me d-"
"Oh do shut up," Hermione snapped. "Besides, it was Headmaster Dumbledore who refrained from dueling The Dark Lord. He clearly bears final culpability on The Dark Lord's actions!"
"We will discuss this further in the headmaster's office," said Professor Snape curtly. Each step pained. Hermione was right behind him, whistling a tune of her own. She'd clearly proven her cleverness once-and-for-all! Solving Headmaster Dumbledore's puzzle, protecting her friends from The Dark Lord! Far too much focus was being put on the SHOULD of her actions, when really they should have been talking about the COULD.
Clever, clever, she was so clever. Each and everyone of her thoughts brilliant. Oh what the future would bring! There would be ever so many delightful possibilities, Her Dark Lord's plans were sure to be quite nefarious, quite devious, and altogether dreadful! Hermione's heart fluttered with excitement. Afterall, there was a part of every pure maiden's heart that wished to live through the most brutal of all wars!
And Her Dark Lord could never have managed his plan without The Great Hermione's help. Well, perhaps he could have, but tensions between the East and West were easing by the day. Now, he could start World War 3 before the Soviet Union collapsed completely! And because of her interference, it was surely going to be nuclear. Why, if Hermione's Dark Lord was not stopped he would surely succeed in his genocidal plans of eradicating every last muggle. Through no fault of her own (she had had to save Ginny afterall) she found herself in a desperate fight for the survival of her very people!
She trembled in sheer delight! She had never felt so alive!
She tried to give Professor Snape a high-five as they walked to Headmaster Dumbledore's office to share with him the good news, and perhaps inquire about the brand of lemon drop he'd given her. It was quite good! Unfortunately, Professor Snape declined her celebration with a rather sour look on his face, looking very much like it wasn't the time for high-fives.
But everything was going according to plan. Err… Plan? A truly preposterous notion. She hardly wanted a nuclear war! She'd had little choice in her actions. It ought to be obvious to all observers that Innocent Hermione Granger had been forced by The Mischievous Lord Voldemort to get him the philosopher's stone. She had been nothing more than a puppet in his machinations most evile, and what fool blamed a puppet?
Oh, things were proceeding swimmingly! Hermione did a little twirl, and opened the door to Headmaster Dumbledore's office wearing a superior little smirk until a troubling little thought occurred to her.
Where was Ron?
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! This chapter was previously titled checkmate, and queen sacrifice before that. Just remember that things aren't always what they appear… Throughout the story, we've had a restrained Voldemort, almost exclusively his interactions have been with those he respected, who he thought posed some level of threat. Well in the next chapter we get to see him in his natural state. A predator hunting helpless prey.