Chapter 33 - The Faustian Bargain
"Girl! Girl!" Bellowed Harry. Code for the female maledictus, as the basilisk was male.
Severus opened his eyes, the python lunged, its fangs as large as kitchen knives. Severus dove away, his elbows fracturing on cobblestone. The serpent flew above him, hissed, and its tail coiled around Severus's torso, constricting around him, squeezing until his ribs cracked.
"Bombarda!" Harry said. His aim was true, but the charm vanished upon contact with green scales. The serpent was unaffected by curses.
"Bombarda Maxima." Severus said, aiming his wandless charm at the ceiling. The stony sky above them shattered. The serpent released him, slithering out of the way of the falling debris. Severus protected himself with a rudimentary shield charm. It wasn't necessary. Harry had done the same. Severus awarded him a nod of approval.
"Wand," said Severus, holding out his hand.
Harry handed it to him without question.
"Protego Horribilis," said Severus. He kept the barrier small. It cost less magic and excluded the serpent. Severus took a breath, and healed his wounds with reparo.
It was unfortunate that after they had decided to finally install an HVAC system in Hogwarts several natural gas deposits had mysteriously vanished. Like magic. Ahh well, it wasn't like Britain relying solely on Soviet gas and oil would halt the Union's collapse for more than a couple of years, so really, what difference would it possibly make? While implementation had been halted until Summer, apparently the pipes already carried some steam. His explosion charm had broken the ceiling of their hallway, bursting several vents, drowning everything in a hazy fog. He heard the serpent slithering around his shield charm. But the barrier would protect from physical attacks as well. So long as his shield remained the snake could not attack them.
"Close your eyes," said Severus. "The basilisk will be coming shortly."
The serpent hissed.
Harry's eyebrows creased. Had the serpent said something worrying? Perhaps, but it hardly mattered. He could hear her scales sliding against stone.
"Point it out to me," said Severus. Harry pointed. "Sectumsempra."
Sectumsempra was a curse he had created for the spread of its attack area. A grapeshot of a cutting curse, so to speak. So long as he had aimed somewhat close to the snake, he ought to have maimed her.
He heard her hiss and serpent continue to circle.
"Point," said Severus. Harry pointed. "Sectumsempra. Sectumsempra. Sectumsempra."
Deep gashes appeared on the stone tiles nearest him, but the serpent continued to slither.
"Sectumsempra, sectumsempra, sectumsempra!" He had cursed the entire hallway. He could not have missed.
The serpent hissed. The floor above them continued its collapse, tiles deflecting against his barrier, more steam leaking from the pipes.
He could not have missed, and yet the serpent was unaffected. Perhaps The Dark Lord had cast protections on it? Of course he had.
"Cutting Charms will not work on it," said Severus. Harry's explosion charm had failed as well. Perhaps fire? Ice? Some sort of blunt attack using projectiles? The Killing Curse would be a last resort. It was costly, difficult to aim, and would render him unable to cast a spell for a few critical moments. If he missed, they were finished.
"Sir," said Harry.
"Speak," said Severus.
"She's been saying, 'bombarda'."
Severus winced. An honest mistake. Harry was very young. Severus had suspected, of course, that the serpent was capable of spellwork, but had refrained from verbalizing such a thing aloud to encourage the serpent to continue its restraint.
A bluish-white bolt erupted from the serpent's mouth, shattering the protective barrier.
"If you hear the serpent say anything of note," said Severus, "Tell me, but I have been doing this for a long time. Anything you know, I kn-"
A green bolt of light flashed above him, as Harry tackled him to the ground.
Harry said nothing. Good, although it didn't matter. It was apparent to all that the serpent could cast The Killing Curse and there was no use hiding that fact.
His shield broken, Severus cast fire charms on the floors behind them and in front of them, surrounding them with flames, boiling the puddles all around them.
The serpent slithered atop the red coals, unbothered by the heat or flames.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Severus ripped up the floor the serpent was slithering on, and slammed it into the ceiling. He kept applying pressure to the cobblestone, until it shattered into gravel, raining back down. The serpent was unaffected, and swam through the air towards them.
Severus raised an eyebrow. Extremely shocking. Unassisted flight had only been accomplished by The Dark Lord. This serpent was unaffected by most hexes or curses, was invulnerable to physical attacks, and possessed attributes claimed only by The Dark Lord.
"Protego Horribilis," said Severus, temporarily halting the serpent. "Miss Granger's roosters, are they still in The Gryffindor Common Room?"
Harry nodded.
"In my office there is a vial of basilisk venom," said Severus. "My collection is labeled and organized alphabetically. Attach the venom to a stake, and drive it through the serpent's head using Wingardium Leviosa. That is the only way we can kill it. You will find me in The Gryffindor Common Room where your rooster is. The witch-serpent will chase me there. The other serpent is a basilisk. A rooster's cawing is fatal to it. That is where we will finish them."
He slashed the pipes above them, releasing steam, obscuring visibility, protecting them from the basilisk, and handed back Harry's wand. "Now go."
XOXOXOX
Hermione couldn't think. He was threatening Ronald. Her Ronald. All that time away from him. Months. And The Dark Lord hadn't understood! Was he a fool? Was he a rabid animal, devoid of rational thought, utterly lacking in cunning? She'd thought she'd made it quite clear that Ron was to be off limits! Kill Ginny, kill Harry, kill Mum and Dad, that was all fine, but for Ronald she'd sacrifice her games, her happiness and return to the dreadful life of a prodigy. And yet he'd still threatened her Ronniekins! Fucking stupid, dreadful, daft, ugly wanker! Maybe she ought to try her luck with avada kedavra afterall!
Hermione squeezed her fists. How? How could her Dark Lord ultimately turn out to be such a let down?
Quirrell's stupid violet eyes glowed scarlet in the darkness. Yes, yes, it was very scary, but it would give away his position in a night fight. And his limbs were spindly like a spider. Unnatural and frightening yes, but also a liability in a physical confrontation. And that pale skin- it would surely burn in the sun! His appearance was entirely decorative and made him look like an utter buffoon!
"Tick-tock Miss Granger," said Quirrell. "Nagini closes in on Little Harry. I can see it."
The evil cur kept trying to hurry her! As if such tactics would work on her! She was from the muggle world, the origin of using urgency to push sales, did he really think so little of her?
How embarrassing! What a disappointing Dark Lord! Not at all what she'd built him up to be, displaying none of the cunning she required of him, none of the scheming he'd possessed in the textbooks and her earlier interactions!
He was a dreadful antagonist entirely unworthy of his place in her story, so why the bloody hell should she bother to get him a philosopher's stone? Hmph!
Wait…
WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAD SHE JUST THOUGHT?
XOXOXOX
"Petrificus Totalus!" Hissed the snake. A white light hit Snape, and he collapsed, a frozen defenseless statue. The giant snake glided towards Snape. "Time to feed!"
"Protego!" Harry ran in front of Snape. What was he doing? The snake had broken Snape's shield charm, his would hardly even slow her. "Finite Incantatem!"
He grabbed Snape's hand and started to run down the hall.
"Do not run Harry Potter," hissed Voldemort's Snake. "Or you will regret it."
Harry didn't look back, but he knew she wasn't lying. Down the hall he heard it. "Killed The Blood Traitor! Now your turn! Rip enemies apart!"
The basilisk? Blood Traitor? Ron? Neville? Didn't matter! Harry shut his eyes, and continued to run, pulling Snape along. He smashed into something, falling backwards.
"Harry?" Asked Dean Thomas. "It's Harry! I found him!"
No! No, no, no…
An older Slytherin, Marcus Flint appeared from the corner, whistled, and sprinted to Harry. "Potter! Where is Ginny? Where is she! Wood kidnapped her didn't he? And you call us dirty?"
As Flint shook Harry, more Slytherins, more Gryffindors filled the hall. The students had arranged a search party.
The basilisk approached from the front. "Mudbloods and Blood-Traitorssss! Sssmell them! Exterrrrminate themmm!"
"Don't look at it!" Harry bellowed. "Or it'll kill you!"
The students crowding him looked around. Idiot! Telling them not to look was the best way to make sure they all looked.
He heard the basilisk's scales crawling just around the corner. So did everyone else.
Voldemort's snake approached from behind. "You have Master's permission… Exterminate them all… Create a beautiful, pure world free of vermin."
"Diffindo!" Harry bellowed, pointing at the ceiling, gashing open the heating pipes. Steam filled the room, and through it the glow of two hate-filled yellow eyes danced like embers at the end of the hall growing ever closer. He gasped, and shut his eyes. The fog had blunted the basilisk's curse, but it still felt like he'd taken a sledgehammer to the face. Dean and Flint and countless other students thudded against the ground.
"Harry!" Cried The Twins. They tossed him The Sorting Hat. After all those midnight quidditch practices, he made the catch with his eyes closed.
"Have you achieved your objectives? Is Neville Longbottom dead?" Asked Voldemort's snake. "Did Ronald Weasley taste good?"
"Yesss and yessss," said The Basilisk. "Hisss blood wuzzzz sssssweet."
NO!
Harry dropped to his knees, tears pouring.
Sirius. Neville. Ron. Dead.
He'd failed them… He couldn't…
Without them… Without his light… How could he fight the darkness…
"I need a true Gryffindor!" Said The Hat. "Not you!"
It was all his fault. All his fault. His fault.
He might as well just…
…Harry opened his eyes.
A hand violently slammed him to the ground.
A rush of green light hit a flash of silver steel. For a moment, letters on The Sword blazed a brilliant emerald: Godric Gryffindor.
"Behind me Harry," Said Snape, holding the sword beside him. "I will not allow you to come to harm."
"And neither will I," said Voldemort's snake. "Basilisk… Continue your attack… Retreat and slumber for a thousand year… It does not matter… You are, you have always been… Free… Do as you wish, but The Parseltongue is under my protection and the one with the sword is born from two muggles. Flipendo."
Snape was sent sprawling. Voldemort's snake coiled itself around Harry.
"She won't harm me," Harry bellowed. "Protect yourself!"
"Die Mudbloods!" The basilisk slithered towards dozens of petrified students cluttering the floor, hate filled yellow eyes glowing through the steam.
Snape stood. He didn't even have a wand, just a single sword, the only thing separating the basilisk from the students.
XOXOXOX
How very, very interesting. If she were correct, she'd caught The Dark Lord in a mistake. Best not make one of her own. Her life depended on the bargain afterall, and -more importantly- her career!
"I want The Philosopher's Stone," Hermione drawled. "After you use it to restore your body."
"No," said Professor Quirrell cruelly. "My pet basilisk has already sunk its fangs into Poor Ronald. Dally too long, and he will succumb to its venom. Do not waste time with requests you know I will not grant."
"I want a Dark Mark, and the ability to activate it at a single instance of my choosing," Hermione said, inspecting her fingernails. "And The Non-Agression Pact should last two years. You will do no harm to me, or any of my friends who are under my authority unless we make a move against you."
Perhaps the nonchalance had been a bit much?
"You want a Dark Mark?" Professor Quirrell asked stupidly, like some dimwitted public schooler. "But why? Surely you must know what it would-"
Oh Professor Quirrell, why was his attention wandering? Why oh why could he be flummoxed by such a straight-forward request. Hermione refrained from smirking. The request for The Dark Mark ought to have been entirely obvious to any self-respecting Dark Lord, for if she were marked he couldn't call his followers without making her aware of the fact he was doing so. The Order likely had Professor Snape for this task of course, but it was far too important a responsibility to be left to one person alone. What kind of fool would be surprised by an enemy desiring to compromise, indeed even hack, their communication lines? Indeed, she planned to call Professor Snape using The Dark Mark the very moment after being branded.
This all should have been quite apparent to any true Dark Lord.
She felt Professor Quirrell's clammy hands against hers.
"Regardless," said Professor Quirrell. "We have a deal. I agree to your terms. I, Lord Voldemort, will not harm you or your friends for two years following your retrieval of The Philosopher's Stone. I will also brand you with a Dark Mark. I will leave you with enough of the Elixir of Life to restore Ginevra to good health, and any surviving victims of today's battle."
Hermione was barely listening. Professor Quirrell was trembling. He was horribly frightened…
Of her?
Hehehe… Served him right, threatening her Ronnie!
Oh Professor Quirrell, why… so… terrified? Of Innocent Little Hermione Granger? That, my dear Watson, was all but inconceivable. So what could it possibly mean? Figured it out yet? Just wait a moment.
"Professor Quirrell," sang Hermione sadistically, pulling away, and meeting his eyes. And sure they were violet, and sure his face was rather ugly, but it was also covered in cold sweat. His eyes darted away, to an innocuous corner of the room. How many times had she missed that ever so curious detail, frightened of Professor Quirrell's fictional legilimency. Hadn't he been a muggle studies professor a couple years back? Surely that couldn't be considered a real subject? "You keep saying, 'I am Lord Voldemort.' Hermione clucked superiorly. "I am The Hermione Granger, and I'm quite proud of that fact, but you don't hear me starting every sentence with 'I am Hermione Granger.' Who are you, really?"
"I am L-Lord Vol-Voldemort!" Quirrell stuttered nervously. "A-and you will d-do well to treat me wi-with re-respec-"
"Enough!" Bellowed a voice from the corner of the room. It wasn't high, or cold, or especially evil. It was mostly a normal voice, if a bit smooth and warm. The kind of voice that you felt you could trust. As the Yankee's would say, it was the kind of voice you could have a beer with. "The game is up, Quirinus. Now, let me face the girl."
Quirrell trudged, head bowed, to a corner of the room and vanished behind a concealing charm. He reappeared, cradling a creature that vaguely resembled a fetus. It had red, scaly skin, snakelike nostrils, and violet, slitted eyes.
"I know I'm ugly," said Tom Riddle bluntly. "And if you look at me, I will read your mind. You can look away. No need to be polite."
Hermione averted her gaze.
"You caught us," said Tom Riddle. "The name Voldemort is fake, obviously. It was a role I played in the past, and I was going to give it to Quirinus. Then I would not be bound to any deals involving Lord Voldemort, and I'd have been free to act in my best interests, which would have unfortunately not included you. Nothing personal, but you've got a plan. Probably a good plan. For you. Bad for me. Good job sniffing out our trick, now you'll get to use it."
"B-but Mast-"
"When is your birthday?" Asked Tom Riddle.
"September 19th," said Hermione.
"You see Quirinus," said Tom Riddle. "She's not The Chosen One. Whatever her plan is, we know it won't kill me."
Oh, so just because she wasn't fated to kill him she wasn't worth being frightened of? Did he really think a measly philosopher's stone was worth having her as an enemy? If he was smart, he'd wisely have told Quirrell to kill her where she stood! How very humiliating! How incredibly insulting! Hermione sniffed...
Wait, why was she upset? The Dark Lord had no plans to kill her, surely that was a good thing… But he ought to be able to see that she was a truer threat than anyone apart from Dumbledore, it was quite clear. Certainly she was magnitudes more harmful to his cause than Harry, Ginny, or bloody Neville Longbottom! That ought to have been obvious, even with some silly prophecy. Had he not heard, did he not realize who she was? She was The Hermione Granger. Everyone had been proclaiming her greatness since she was two, and then she'd learned she was literally magic! As if some silly prophecy, as if something as frankly preposterous as fate was any match for her logic, intelligence, and work ethic. The Dark Lord was truly a fool for not assassinating her right now, even if she might help him temporarily-
She was happy of course, that The Dark Lord had no intention of killing her. She'd be a complete and utter loon otherwise. Almost as mad as The Dark Lord, for entertaining any possibility of her continued existence.
"Hermione," said Tom Riddle. "I'll agree to the terms you laid out for Quirinus. Get me The Stone. Take the deal, it's a good one for you. Bad for me, but this body is horrible. Living like this is horrible. Since my accident, I've been living in rats and snakes. It's been horrible. I'm in the body of a baby right now. A baby Hermione! I'm a literal bloody baby! I just want The Damn Stone to fix this mess and live my life again. I'd never accept such a bad deal if I weren't so desperate. The deal I'm giving you is good. It's great. Two years where I can't attack you? Where I can't attack Harry? For a Stone I don't even need? That's insane, it's insane Hermione. What if the nazis had told the soviets when they'd be attacking and given them two years to prepare? They'd have been slaughtered. I can't believe I'm agreeing to this. If I weren't in the body of a baby I'd kill whoever negotiated terms so unfair. Say yes, it's the easiest decision ever, if Dumbledore were here he'd tell you the same thing. Say yes. Just say yes."
It was a good deal. It was exactly the deal she'd wanted in the first place. Her instincts screamed at her to refuse. The Dark Lord had offered everything she'd wanted from him, but his eagerness to get the deal done left her feeling quite anxious. Like she was missing something important.
The holes in her memory… What was she missing? It…
Hermione licked her she could catch Quirrell by surprise, and with him defeated, The Dark Lord could be safely contained and imprisoned in his current form. Had the plan been to gain The Dark Lord's trust, and betray him at the perfect moment?
Yes.
Yes… That must have been the plan. Show the Dark Lord her amorality, coerce him into showing his vulnerability, and take full advantage. She could end the war here and be considered the greatest witch ever… But Hermione's grip didn't tighten on her wand. If she followed that plan, she'd never get to test her wits against Albus Dumbledore, she'd lose out on all the fu- And capturing The Dark Lord in a weakened form would be quite bor-
"Fine," said Hermione, a smile coming to her lips. "I'll get you your stone."
Her stomach fluttered like butterflies. She would be no Scipio, no Wellesley, she was destined for greater things.
"Then let us seal it with an Unbreakable Vow," said Tom Riddle. "Quirinus. Hermione. Come."
Hermione grasped Tom Riddle's tiny right hand. Quirrell placed the tip of his wand atop their hands.
"By the end of the night, will you retrieve for me The Philosopher's Stone?" Asked Tom Riddle.
"I will," said Hermione. "Will you use The Philosopher's Stone to heal anyone dear to me, who may be wounded in tonight's attacks, as soon as possible?"
"I will," said Tom Riddle. "Will you allow me continued possession of The Philosopher's Stone after tonight's events, and stop any attempts to take The Philosopher's Stone from my possession in the future?"
"I will," said Hermione. "Will you put upon me a genuine Dark Mark, immediately after the initial binding of this contract? Will you allow me to use it at a time of my choosing?"
"I will," said Tom Riddle.
"And for two years, will both of you refrain from any acts of aggression towards the other or their party?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. Obviously such a promise was quite insufficient. Quirrell would simply murder her as soon as she retrieved the philosopher's stone.
Tom Riddle shook his head.
"And for two years, will both of you, and those under your influence, refrain from any acts of aggression towards the other or their party?"
Now that was more like it. With any luck, that gave her the wiggle room she needed to murder them both.
"I will," said Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger together. A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from the wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire. It was done.
"Go on then," said Tom Riddle eagerly. "Give her the brand."
"Mosmodre," said Quirrell. A horrid skull and serpent tattoo inked itself under her skin. A tattoo, like some lowlife ruffian. Mum and Dad would surely throw a fit. Hermione smiled, and held out her hand expectantly. The infant placed a claw onto her Dark Mark, activating it. Feebly of course, The Dark Lord's magic was but a shadow of its former glory. Why, it would be quite clear to all the death eaters that a child was playing an adult's game.
Professor Snape was certainly not under her influence, so when he came to her rescue and executed Quirrell and the horrid Tom Riddle she'd hardly be violating The Unbreakable Vow. And she would hardly be in a position to stop him from taking the stone would she? Meanwhile, The Dark Lord's unquenchable thirst for control ensured that his attacks on Ron, Ginny, and Harry (and Neville she supposed) would be halted at once.
"As expected. Now The Stone, as we agreed," said Tom Riddle impatiently. "The Stone. Get me The Stone!"
Hermione bounced on her feet enthusiastically. Outmaneuvering the cleverest wizard in all the world, her intellect was truly astonishing!
And now… Now all Hermione had to do was solve The Veil of Humility. But no matter, even though the defense had been created by Albus Dumbledore himself, bypassing it would surely be within her marvelous capabilities.
Afterall, she was The Hermione Granger, the cleverest little witch who had ever lived!
XOXOXOX
Severus swung The Sword of Gryffindor at the lunging basilisk, clanging against its skull. The grip stung his hands, and the edge did not penetrate The Basilisk's emerald scales. But Severus was quite familiar with The Sword's properties, and it absorbed anything it came into contact with, which meant that it had absorbed The Killing Curse and The Basilisk would be killed upon contact with the blade. In theory.
He leaned backwards, a hair from The Basilisk's closing fangs. Severus closed his eyes, and swatted blindly at The Basilisk, momentarily fending it off. But he could hear breathing, hissing, and he felt his arms growing tired. He heard the air whistle, and swung with all his weight. Again he managed to turn The Enemy away, but it was mostly luck. Without his wand he was powerless. As worthless as when he'd been a child.
No. He would not die. Not yet. Not willingly.
Sev dug deep and roared.
Father lunged, and Sev momentarily held him off with a frying pan. Even though Father was larger, Sev wouldn't stop fighting, he'd never just take his beating. Never! Eventually it would stop. Eventually it would stop. He'd make it stop. He had to. Nobody ever came to help, not Mother, not the worthless police, not any of the uncaring neighbo-
"RUN!" Li-Harry bellowed.
Severus let out a breath, dug even deeper, and opened his eyes. Voldemort's snake had wrapped up Harry, but otherwise hadn't harmed him. Granger had made a deal. Good. Then all he had to do was defeat The Basilisk, and Harry would be safe. But The Basilisk's armor was too strong for him to penetrate, and he barely had enough magic for a Cutting Charm let alone a Killing Curse. Perhaps if Severus had survived, he could have saved more of the world that Lily loved so much, but Sev had never been a perfectionist, and understood that he rarely got everything he wanted. That was good en-
No! Sev would not give up so easily. There had to be a way. There just had to be.
He kept his gaze low, on The Basilisk's underbelly. And at last he saw it. About a meter behind The Basilisk's head was a chink in its invincible armor, a fresh wound from a previous battle.
Severus glared up at the two glowing yellow orbs. He would run no longer. He would look death straight in the eye and severed its head. Metaphorically of course.
Death came for him, its scales grinding against stone, gradually coming into view. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself to love, letting Lily's spirit guide him.
Harry screamed.
Severus snapped into motion, bolting to his left, just out of grasp of the lunging basilisk. He hefted his sword, and brought it down with a roar. Gryffindor's Sword found flesh at last. Unfortunately not deeply enough. Damn his weak arms!
The Basilisk screamed, thrashed, and Severus chopped its flesh again and again. But not a fourth. The Basilisk lunged. Severus turned it away, but felt his fingers loosen from its handle. The Basilisk attacked once more, and Gyffindor's Sword clanked against the stone floor. Out of his grasp at last.
The Basilisk hissed in triumph, and rushed forward for one final attack. And at last Severus remembered he was no muggle. He levitated The Sword of Gryffindor and cleaved The Basilisk's head from its body. And with the last of its strength, The Basilisk threw itself at Severus. He couldn't lift the sword, so he threw up an arm. The Basilisk's fangs sunk into his forearm, injecting him with venom.
The Basilisk was slain at last. Dead. And soon, very soon, Severus would follow. Harry cried for him, with those beautiful green eyes. And although he knew he did not deserve it, Severus was pleased that someone was saddened by his passing.
XOXOXOX
Beyond The Veil, Poor Ronald was bleeding to death, probably from a bite from one of Tom's horrid snakes. Next to him was a philosopher's stone, but unlike Hermione he didn't know how to perform alchemy. Hermione had no experience in alchemy either of course, but she was The Hermione Granger, so surely she would figure it out.
The bottom of The Veil was inscribed with The First Law. Equivalent Exchange.
Hermione brushed her fingers against The Veil. It didn't feel cold exactly, nor hot, unnoticeable. More precisely she lost sensation in her fingers, which one might normally describe as numb, although this was a different feeling altogether... More like… Unfeeling? Dea-
"Careful," blurted Quirrell like some kind of churlish delinquent. "If you go inside The Veil you will di-"
"No talking during the test," Tom said irritably. "Honestly Quirinus, how old are you? You should know better!"
Quite right, Hermione nodded. This was a test designed by Albus. Of course, he had made it specifically for Tom, but it would surely be ever so much fun. Oh, there was nothing quite like being tested! Hermione's heart fluttered with jo- fear and regret. How could it have come to this? If only she had told a professor of her suspicions, then all of this fun could surely have been avoided!
Hermione mused that to go into The Veil surely meant death. Afterall, what better equivalency for immortality than your life?
"Please," said Illusory Ronald, from beyond The Veil, blood spurting out of him. "Don't come. It's a trap. Only death awaits inside."
Hermione snorted. She didn't need some illusion to tell her that. Honestly, saving Ginevra, Harry, and even Ronald at the cost of her own life was hardly an exchange worth considering. Even putting aside self-preservation it would be an entirely unfair exchange from a purely utilitarian perspective. She was a genius and her friends were all just ordinary rabble. Did she love them dearly? Of course. But she wouldn't die for them. Who would? Such trite nonsense ought to be reserved for stories aimed for the gullible.
If the solution was her own death, then she would just have to fail this test. But surely Tom would have known that. Quirrell's rude hint had as much as given away that knowledge. And if the solution was self-sacrifice then Tom ought to have chosen some lesser first year to solve the puzzle for him. Afterall, she was The Hermione Granger. She didn't sacrifice herself for others. Others sacrificed themselves for her.
"Don't come," gasped Fake Ron, paler now, shivering and convulsing. "We all… Know… You're more important…"
Yes. That was quite obvious. She didn't know why The Veil kept telling her the value of her own life. She was hardly suicidal, nor was she naive enough to believe that the illusions from beyond were real.
Hermione tapped her wand against her lips. Self-sacrifice couldn't be the solution. Afterall, Headmaster Dumbledore would have to be able to return the stone to The Great Nicholas Flamel, and he could hardly sacrifice a life each time he had to retrieve it. There had to be a solution that allowed him to retrieve the stone without dying. It still had to be capable of stopping Tom Riddle and Quirinus Quirrell.
"Professor Quirrell," said Hermione sweetly. "Would you have gone into The Veil to save our master if ordered?"
Quirrell glanced at Tom Riddle.
"For the love of Yahweh, answer the damn question Quirinus," said Tom irritably. "Must you always have everything explained to you? She has The Dark Mark. She is trying to retrieve The Philosopher's Stone for me. At the moment, she is my most valuable death eater."
Quirrell nodded. "Master is the only one capable of winning the coming war, of saving our people. Even if it costs me my life, I would do it."
Sure... Of course he'd claim that. What an utterly unrepentant brown-noser… He was admirable in that regard at least.
Hermione tapped her wand against her lips. Even if Quirrell was lying, Barty Crouch Junior had proven that he would die at Riddle's command. But neither had shown any loyalty to the man himself, but instead to his cause. So while self-sacrifice obviously played some role in retrieving the stone, the solution had to be more specific. Dying for the greater good wouldn't satisfy The Veil. Hermione glanced again beyond The Veil.
Ronald dying.
Why would Albus want to show her that? Why show her the person she most loved…
Love? Was that the answer… The self-sacrifice couldn't be for a concept or a cause, it had to be more personal than that. You had to give your life for another. Perhaps… What was it Albus had said about Tom?
"Lord Voldemort does not think himself evil. Nor, I believe, does he think himself good. Unless I am quite mistaken, and I rarely am in such matters, Lord Voldemort foolishly believes that morality does not exist."
It could reasonably be inferred that a man who didn't believe in morality didn't believe in love either… No… Tom had kidnapped Ginevra and used it as coercion. He believed in love, he understood its power, but perhaps he was incapable of feeling it himself?
"Don't come," the Fake Ronald begged her, from beyond The Veil.
"Oh, do shut up," Hermione snapped. "I'm trying to think! I'm trying to save the real you, not some soppy idealized version!"
She paced across The Room of Requirement, her footsteps echoing softly. It wasn't like she was a bad person for being wise to The Veil's tricks. What kind of fool would actually sacrifice themselves to save another? Maybe Albus thought that sounded like love, but Hermione thought that sounded like stupid. What was wrong with valuing her own life above others? Perhaps it was a little selfish, but wasn't a little selfishness a good thing? Wasn't valuing others over yourself a little strange? Hadn't she bent enough? Hadn't she admitted that there was more to life than books and intelligence? Surely she had sufficiently humbled herself.
Was this why she was unworthy of love?
"Ronald," Hermione whispered to The Veil, each word pulled from her like a rotten tooth. "If our roles were reversed, would you save me?"
XOXOXOX
"Let me go!" Harry gasped, struggling to break free from the snake's coil. Snape was dying… Just like Sirius. Just like Ron and Ginny and Neville. He didn't know what he'd do, but… but he'd spent so much time hating Snape, resenting him- and after how dark Harry had been Snape was gonna die protecting him!
"No," Voldemort's snake hissed. "The Prince is a traitor. He must be punished for disobeying us."
"Then you'd better kill me too!" Harry bellowed. "Or I'll make you pay!"
He felt furious, and yet cold. In control. He could reach his wand. He'd behead the serpent.
"Diffindo," Harry drawled. But his curse deflected harmlessly against the serpent's armor.
"Kill you," said the serpent. "Why would I kill myself? Haven't you realized yet? Haven't you wondered? Why you can talk to snakes? Why you've been having visions?"
With the last of his strength, Severus slid him The Sword of Gryffindor. It stopped right next to him.
Harry shook. He had wondered. He had known. For a long, long time he had known.
He was The Heir of Slytherin.
The snake laughed.
"No, no, Harry Potter, you are not The Heir of Slytherin… Although, perhaps you could say you are, in the same way I could say I am you, even though I am Nagini. We are all one. We are all Lord Voldemort."
That… That couldn't be possible… That didn't even make sense! The snake was lying!
"Take The Sword," bellowed Snape. "The serpent is a horcrux. A fragment of Lord Voldemort's soul stored in an object or creature! It is nearly invincible. But The Sword can destroy it."
A horcrux? A fragment of Voldemort's soul?
"Go ahead," hissed Nagini. "Take the sword. But only a true Gryffindor can touch Godric's Sword. And we are seven things, and none of them is a true Gryffindor."
The sword vanished into mist as soon as he touched it. As soon as Voldemort touched it…
…No…
…But… He could be different… He didn't have to be dark, it was still his choice!
"Yes, yes," hissed Nagini. "I once thought the same. I was once a sweet, kind woman who only wished to help an obscurial. And yet… Over time… That darkness imbued in me grew. Its strength was intoxicating, its ruthlessness more and more digestible, until at last I had understood. Light and darkness are mere fabrications, morality a desperate attempt at attributing meaning where none exists. There is life and there is oblivion. You will eventually realize how blessed you are, to be Lord Voldemort. When others meet annihilation, when all your friends are dead, you will remain."
Something flew through the air. Harry caught it. Snape had tossed him a basilisk fang.
"Kill it!" Snape bellowed. "Do not listen to what it says! It is a part of Lord Voldemort, but it cannot harm you directly!"
"Although…" Nagini drawled. "You won't have to wait long for all your friends to perish. Neville has already been killed by our other self. Would you like me to show you Ron Weasley's death? Any moment now…"
Harry trembled.
"No?" Nagini asked. "But you can always make more friends. And lose them… Those around you do seem to die… Isn't that strange?"
"Destroy the horcrux!" Snape bellowed. "You must not think of it as a person! She has lost her soul long ago! So long as she remains, Lord Voldemort is invincible!"
"Would you like to know why we killed your parents?"
Harry raised the basilisk fang.
"Because of a prophecy," said Nagini sweetly. "Only you have the power to vanquish me. You are The Chosen One. Destined to kill me. I was merely acting in self defense. Your parents were simply… In the way… Do you understand? I killed them because they sought to protect you."
Harry understood. It was his fault. Sirius dead and it was his fault. Snape was dying and it was his fault. Ron was dead and it was his fault. Neville was dead. His fault… Ginny… His fault… And… And his parents were dead, and it was all… his… fault.
"What are you waiting for!" Snape cried. "You must destroy it! Yes it is a person, but you must harden your heart! So long as any of Voldemort's horcruxes remain he is invincible! Kill the horcrux!"
He thrust the basilisk fang into Nagini. It clanked harmlessly against her scales, chipping, cracking, crumbling.
"No need to fear," said Nagini kindly. "Try to kill me all you like. I will not kill you. For as long as you survive, I will be invincible."
He couldn't destroy the horcrux in front of him. But there was still one horcrux left.
Harry swallowed. He turned the basilisk fang around in his palm. He understood what was required.
"Harry," Snape croaked, his skin a sickly yellow, sweat covering his brow. "You mustn't. You are The Chosen One. You are the only one who can defeat Lord Voldemort."
"The Prince is right," said Nagini. "None of them will do it for you. Only you."
"I'm a horcrux!" Harry bellowed. "I've got to!"
Harry trembled, and brought the basilisk fang closer to his stomach.
"No," Snape whispered, his eyelids drooping. "You mustn't… Think of… How those… Left behind… How will they feel?"
Sirius? Ron? Neville? Ginny? Mum and Dad… All dead. After… Maybe Hermione would miss him, but she was muggleborn. If she wanted to survive, eventually she'd have to take out Voldemort, and to do that she'd have to kill…
Harry would never ask her to do that. This was his responsibility. His responsibility!
Harry bellowed, and brought the basilis-
"Quidditch!" Snape bellowed, crawling towards him. "If you die, you'll never be able to play Cho Chang again… You'll never pay back Slytherin… You'll never prove Hufflepuff wasn't a fluke! You'll never be able to create another spell! You'll never… You'll never fall in love again! It will get better Harry. IT WILL! You've just got to keep going! You've got to!"
Harry hesitated. Quidditch… He wanted to play quidditch again… But…
"Yes," Nagini hissed. "Cast aside your responsibilities, cast aside your Mother's light, and selfishly survive! Make us invincible!"
The most beautiful, sorrowful song Harry had ever heard filled the hallway. It was brightness, warmth, and represented everything good in the world. And just as quickly as it had arrived it had vanished. It had flown right past them. The phoenix had been crying, but not for him.
"Harry," said Snape, he uncorked a vial, and drank a silvery liquid. He stood at last, but his skin remained a sickly yellow, his breathing ragged. Unicorn blood could extend life, but at a terrible cost. "Live."
Harry trembled. He couldn't do it. The basilisk fang clattered against the ground.
"Very good," said Nagini. "One last deed from my precious Prince. But now Severus, your role in my story is over."
She leapt at Severus.
"Avada Kedavra!"
And Nagini collapsed in a heap. Harry lowered his wand. In the moment it had been so fast, and he'd acted on instinct. His hand wasn't even trembling, and the wave of sorrow he'd expected wasn't coming. Nor guilt, nor anger, he just felt relieved. His soul didn't feel shattered. What was wrong with him? He'd cast the curse which had killed his parents, he really was a part of Lord Vol-
"Harry," said Severus. "Excellent work, we've killed the snakes, but our job is not finished. We must hurry. Hermione is calling for aid!"
On second thought, Harry didn't really feel sorry about killing Nagini. If he hadn't Nagini would have killed Snape, and between the two of them Harry cared more for Snape. He'd do it again. He had a job to do.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Only four chapters left! I've gone back and edited past chapters to clear up a plot hole and age up the characters two years so the premise works a little better. And now onto reviews!
GRYFFINDOR123456 - Yeah, Cedric's a sportsman for sure. Remember in cannon year 3, when he offered a rematch to Harry because he felt it was unfair that dementors had been let out on the pitch? Anyways, thank for the reviews, and I hoped you enjoyed the chapter!
Jamie0 - How dare you. Hufflepuff is best house! Gryffindor? Cowboys and renegades who would be super annoying to work with, always arguing with the boss and making the workplace a nightmare. They would for sure protest policies from management and extend bothersome meetings. Unforgivable! Ravenclaw? Snobby nerds. Slytherin? Sycophants and backstabbers, just horrible. Hardworking, kind Hufflepuffs, those are the people you want.
ViviTheFolle - It continues… Voldemort doesn't have the same weakness he did in cannon, and he won't make the same mistakes. He does still have an exploitable weakness though. We've got two more chapters and then the current ordeal will be over. The last 2 chapters deal with the aftermath.
Merendinoemiliano - Thanks, but just wait for the last chapter.