A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! I loved hearing your theories! Huge thank you to lanamarymack and Angela 007 for their help alpha/beta reading this chapter. Only the epilogue is left after this one - I am nervously awaiting your reactions to this one. You can find me on tumblr (nauticalparamour).
Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-eight and be on the lookout for chapter forty-nine soon!
The days before the autumnal equinox lurched by with stunning consistency, completely unaware that they were marching towards some horrid end that Hermione wasn't sure if she should be dreading or eagerly anticipating.
They had celebrated her birthday at Riddle Manor, making it the first time they had welcomed guests to Tom's ancestral home. It was a peculiar grouping of people, but Hermione felt cherished and loved by almost everyone there. She and Tom sat court in their parlour, flutes of champagne in hand while people lined up to speak with both of them. Even Aurelia Malfoy had the decency to look green with envy when she realized the prized position Hermione now inhabited, despite her best efforts.
But then, in the blink of an eye, they were waking up on the morning of the equinox. Hermione reluctantly handed Caroline off to Honey, after giving her one hundred kisses, an act which amused Tom.
"You act like you will never see her again," he said, giving her a fond sort of look.
"I just never want her to doubt my love for her," Hermione answered, before entering her closet to select her robes for the day.
Now that she knew what was planned, she selected her dress more carefully. Again, she chose something that would keep her warm throughout the whole event, but this year, she gravitated towards fabric that was colored more of a blood red than cranberry.
Once they were both ready, Hermione and Tom grabbed the port key that would take them to the Lestrange property. Again, Hermione was very impressed with the warding Edmond maintained and mentioned it to her husband.
"We should ask Edmond about his blood wards," Hermione said, when they reached the clearing. "I'm curious about having something similar set up at home."
"Or Orion," Tom mused. "Though he is more paranoid than practical, so perhaps not."
When the others realized that the Riddles had arrived, they quickly welcomed them. Edmond held a flower crown made of asphodels in his hand. He held out his arms so that he could place it reverently on Hermione's head, adjusting it until it was just perfect.
"There, now our Queen of the Underworld looks her part," he said, smirking at her. "Doesn't she?"
Hermione flushed at being called a Queen once again, but she could not deny the heady sort of rush she got from the title. A part of her wished to deny it, but the overwhelming feeling that bubbled up in her chest was desire, hunger for the power that she now wielded over these men, whether they realized it or not. Edmond might be half-jesting, but she wondered if they would jump should she command it.
"Yes, she does," Tom said, making no secret of the way that he admired her body. "What do you think, darling? Are you ready?"
She did not feel that she was ready, but she also knew that there was no way to decline. Nodding, she followed along after Tom and Edmond as they surveyed the number of trees in the grove so they could find the most suitable option. All the while, Antonin followed behind her, quipping that she had just wanted to get out of the physical labor that was next to come.
"I'll enjoy watching you carry bushels of apples, knowing that I will get to drink the fruits of your labor," she teased back. She was at least glad that she wasn't expected to help carry baskets and baskets of the heavy fruit or operate the massive press that would create the sweet cider they would later enjoy.
Antonin flushed at her words, obviously not expecting her to play it up.
Something stirred in Hermione's chest and she looked up, realizing that it was a pull drawing her towards a particular tree. It was not a practically grand tree, just a sturdy English oak, with low hanging branches, heavy with acorns. She walked towards it and pressed a hand against its bark.
"This one," she breathed out, unsure of what had possessed her, but she could feel it singing in her blood that this was the right tree.
Satisfied with her selection, Tom guided her to stand with her back against the trunk, her feet carefully perched on its roots. Alfie pulled out the ropes and he and Evan passed the length back and forth around the trunk, until she was tied tight and unable to move.
"You make a very pretty picture," Tom said with a smirk, stepping back to look at her, vulnerable and trussed up.
"Don't get any ideas," Hermione retorted with a half grin of her own.
"Remember not to struggle too much," he added, a brief look of concern appearing on his face. "I don't want the ropes to hurt you."
Hermione nodded, before wishing her companions well on their apple harvest. The wind picked up, rattling through the oak's leaves. It was almost like an embrace, Hermione thought, and she hoped it could be reassurance that she was doing the right thing. That she hadn't made a terrible mistake. Her heart thudded away in her chest and she just hoped that he would show up in time.
As the morning passed, her calves began to ache from the unusual position that she was left in, unable to move her body as the ropes held her in place. She could still move her head side to side, but she was cautious to not knock the pretty crown from her head.
Periodically, one of the Knights would come, bringing her little bites of sustenance to help pass the time and keep up her strength. Evan cut bits of apple for her, before letting her head the slices one by one, taking her time. Alfie brought her a bit of crusty bread, smeared generously with butter, and a cup of heady red wine to wash it down with. Her heart hammered away in her chest when Tom brought her a bit of honey comb. He held it up to her lips and let her take nibbles, before wiping away the excess honey from her lips with the pad of his thumb. The act was enough to send a pulse of desire between her legs and she wished she could move more than ever.
By the time that the sun had reached its pinnacle and was heading down toward the horizon, worry began to gnaw in her stomach that Dumbledore was never going to show and free her from this wretched tree.
But her worry was for naught.
She barely even heard him walking up to the tree that she was at, before she felt the ropes begin to move, loosening quickly. "It's alright Miss Granger," he said, his voice barely audible above the sudden rush of wind in the tree's branches. "I'll get you out of here shortly."
"I was beginning to worry that you weren't coming," Hermione revealed, her muscles screaming in relief when she could finally move her hands. She reached into the sleeve of her dress and pulled out her wand. The ropes fell away from her legs and she took a stumbling step forward.
It did not take long for him to appear from around the otherside of the tree. He was not prepared to meet her wand, pointed straight at him. "Expelliarmus!" she shouted, thinking of Harry and how that was often the only spell he was given to work with.
Albus looked dumbfounded as his wand flew from his own grasp and sailed through the air, before Hermione's hand shot out and caught it. Immediately, she felt a new power settle in her bones and she thought of the significance. Was it possible that she was the true owner of the Elder Wand now?
"What—what is the meaning of this?" he demanded, lurching towards her so that he might grab it back from her. A wizard without his wand is a dangerous creature.
Hermione was prepared, though, and took a step back. "Incarcerous!" she said, lazily casting the spell, before watching in amusement as the ropes he'd only just freed her from binded around his legs and his arms, across his neck and chest. Before she could think on it any more, she sent a patronus to Tom, with a message that their visitor had arrived.
It did not take long for the Knights to arrive, all playfully cheering that the sacrifice had willingly come. Some of them did not believe that their plan would work, but Hermione knew Dumbledore better than that.
The Transfiguration Professor began to struggle when he realized that he had been tricked. "Miss Granger! I demand that you tell me what's going on," he repeated, his voice booming, as though he had any control in the situation.
"I think that this should be very obvious at this point," Hermione said, a sneer on her face. "And I've told you repeatedly not to call me that anymore. It's Mrs. Riddle now."
At this point, Tom came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his head against her shoulder. "You've done so well, my darling," he whispered, staring at the wizard who'd been a thorn in his side since he first came to Hogwarts. "My dark priestess," he added, giving her ear lobe a nip.
Dumbledore began to struggle against his bonds, and he seemed to quickly realize that they were not normal ropes. Instead, they seemed to cut the moment he struggled against them, the sharp fibers digging in deeper and deeper. The tree groaned and shook in the wind as the first drops of blood seeped into the soil beneath it, which only made him more desperate to get free. "Hermione! Hermione, please don't let them do this!" he shouted, panic now setting in. "I was coming here to help you!"
Hermione cocked her head to one side to look at him. "Why should I deny them this when you've made yourself such a willing sacrifice?" she asked.
This enraged him further, but he could do nothing but fight against his bonds, all but assuring his fate as the cords cut deeper and deeper, dark red blood saturating his purple robes until they looked more black than anything. The rope around his neck cut him next and Hermione turned her head away from the sight, though there was nothing to stop the hideous gurgle that followed from reaching her ears.
Tom, still wrapped around her like a robe, reached up to cup her jaw tenderly, turning her head back to look at the tree. She kept her eyes shut tight, not wanting to see his fate. "Watch," he whispered, sensing her reluctance. "Or else you will never believe that he is truly gone. Watch and remember what he did to you - took your memory from you when you went to him for help. He wasn't trying to help you, only help himself."
Her body was screaming not to, but Hermione forced her eyes open, to watch Dumbledore in the throes of death. His struggles got more wild, still trying to free himself from the ropes even though he knew that it was futile, too panicked to think properly, or even attempt wandless magic. And then, he began to slow, until eventually he stopped, his blue eyes wild and open even in death.
The Knights all cheered around them when it was done, Mulciber collecting a small vial of the blood which would be used later in their balancing potion. If it was any small blessing, Hermione thought, at least she wouldn't have to watch a bee drown itself in honey this year.
"The darkness is winning," she whispered, thinking that it really was the perfect time for this to happen.
Tom chuckled beside her. "Don't think of it as darkness," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. "Think of it as power changing hands. He could have gracefully let it go, but even though he couldn't admit it to himself, Dumbledore was too stubborn to let go of the power he had. He couldn't accept that things were changing."
Hermione leaned back against him, suddenly feeling like she didn't have any strength left in her at all. She knew that he was right - that Dumbledore had chosen his own fate.
And she had to accept that she'd chosen her own fate, too.