Final chapter will hopefully be posted in the next couple of days, if all goes well! November has been a really busy month writing for Nanowrimo, and I keep running out of time to do things.
If you like Cissamione too, then I have been working on a new fic for my Nano project, and I currently have nearly 60k words of it written which I will start posting soon called The Universe Within Our Dreams.
Thanks for your patience waiting for the update. I never intended it to be this long, I'm sorry!
Steren xx
-xXx-
Coming face to face with Alex after all of these years fills Hermione's chest with a strange longing. She knows that the man standing opposite her is not the beautiful soul that was her brother in their early years. Jealousy and his ego have warped that, changing him into something unrecognisable. Still, even with that knowledge firmly at the front of her mind, she can't help the feeling of sadness that washes over her. Her brother is now so close, and yet he couldn't be further away.
She schools her expression into something as neutral as she can manage under the circumstances, and nods curtly in his direction. "Alex," she acknowledges. "It's been a while."
He grins maliciously. "And you so enjoyed those years, I'm sure."
She flinches. The reminder of her time with Cormac, an arrangement that she now knows came about at the hands of her brother, causes a flare of anger to rip through her and she tightens her grip on her wand.
"What do you want, Alex?" she asks flatly, changing tact. Delving into old hurts and allowing emotion to cloud her judgement is not the way to win this battle, she knows. Alex is hot-headed and will try and get a rise out of her, but she refuses to give him that kind of power.
"Maybe I just wanted to catch up with my sister," he replies with a shrug, but his eyes glitter menacingly and she fights the urge to take a step backwards.
"Try again, Alex." Hermione does her best to look bored, but every one of her senses is primed and ready for what is inevitably going to be a fight.
He laughs. "You got me."
"Well?" she asks again, raising an eyebrow in his direction.
"You've become a bit of a problem, Sis. You see, you have something I want, but I'll never have it while you are alive, unless you help me."
Confused, she steps forwards until she is leaning up against the side rails of the ship. "Oh?" she prompts. The longer she can keep him talking, the better. It gives her and the others the time to analyse what they are up against, and look for ways to defeat Riddle, Alex and the rest of The Voldemort's crew.
"I went to Atlantis," he tells her conversationally. "Do you know what happened?"
That's what this is about? Atlantis? It can't be that simple, can it? "I haven't the faintest idea," Hermione denies, though she has a fairly good inkling of where this is going.
Atlantis is only accessible if accompanied the first time by the current monarchy, or someone who has been added to the protective enchantments. She's not had the chance to step into the role, the title sounding foreign to her own ears, but Hermione is the current Queen. It's a title only earned after the death of her parents, but it means Hermione is someone who can grant access to Atlantis. Alex might be of the same magical bloodline, but the charms and enchantments around the island will not recognise that he has any right to be there whilst Hermione is still alive. Not unless he is accompanied by someone that the island recognises as being entitled.
He confirms her suspicions, scowling viciously. "I know the coordinates, but of course, the Island didn't show itself. And do you know what that means?" he asks her, his tone far too casual.
"I'm sure you're about to tell me," Hermione answers dryly.
"It means that while you are alive, I will never have what is my due."
"So, what? You're here to kill me and cut the ties to any rights that I have?"
Alex snorts. "You make it sound so clinical. I'm here to take what is mine, and I won't stop at anything until I have it. Whether that means killing you now, or taking you with me, I don't care either way."
She hears a soft growl coming from behind her, and gestures with a hand behind her back for Bellatrix to let her handle this. To her relief, the Captain appears to listen, and stays behind her. How long for, is anyone's guess. She can practically feel the protective impatience rolling off of Bellatrix in waves.
Hermione stays silent for a moment. The man in front of her is desperate. His jealousy has grown over the years, and now it seems to fuel him. There is no doubt in her mind that he will stop at nothing to get what he believes he deserves. There is one thing that he has forgotten though, and she will do everything in her power to prevent him from connecting those particular dots. If Hermione dies, Alex does not automatically become the heir. There are very specific laws that are complexly interwoven into their magical bloodline. If Hermione should die then it is Rose, and not Alex who inherits the power.
"It never needed to come to this," Hermione bites out. "We all knew that our time as the rulers of Port Ventus was coming to an end. It was always on the cards that we would leave and return to Atlantis. If you hadn't walked away, then we would all have gone there together."
He throws up his hands, scowling. "Believe what you want, Sister. They were never going to let me come with you."
Frowning, Hermione wonders about his peculiar statement, opening her mouth to ask what he means, but he beats her to it.
"Don't you think it's strange that we never went back there after we both turned seventeen? That wasn't an accident, Hermione. They knew that if we returned there as adults, then we would be added to the enchantments, and therefore able to admit people in our own right. Only witches and wizards that have come of age are given that privilege upon arrival."
"You think they wanted to keep you from Atlantis? You're delusional, Alex. They loved you. We all loved you," she reminds him angrily, choking back tears when she adds, "I still love you, even despite everything that you have done to me since you left."
"You deserved everything that came your way," he retorts angrily, raising his wand. "And now you will face your final punishment."
She refuses to cower in the face of his aggression, resisting the urge to counter with a defensive posture. She drops her shoulders and takes a deep breath. "You want to fight me?"
"Yes," he agrees without hesitation. "You won't beat me now. You have no idea of the things I have done. There are spells I have learned that you cannot even comprehend, and while you have been playing housewife, I have been honing my skills under the best teacher in the world. I know more spells than you can even dream of."
And that is where Alex has always failed. Conventional magic is all about spells; incantations in conjunction with a specific wand movement to guide your magic. Hermione has no doubt that he might be incredibly well educated now, undoubtedly dipping into the Dark Arts, under the tutelage of Tom Riddle. She feels a flicker of hope spring to life, and tries to keep the relief she feels from showing on her face, lest she give herself away. Conventional magic is only part of what they are capable of, and that is the one thing that Alex never really understood about their bloodline.
Incantations and wand movements are irrelevant with ancient magic. You don't need them to guide your energy in the same way as you would with the standard magic most witches and wizards can harness.
No. Ancient magic is about tapping into the environment around you, and guiding it directly. Willing it to do your bidding, and understanding how it all works. The world is made up of energy and as soon as you understand that, you hold the key to ancient magic in your hand. You learn to sense the energy as a tangible presence and you can shape it to your will, no matter how impossible you think it is. Hermione might be out of practice, but once upon a time she could feel it everywhere, making up the fabric of space and time itself.
"I don't want to fight you," is all Hermione says, and she relaxes her fingers around her wand counterintuitively. If she is going to pull this off, then she needs to be flexible. She needs to let the magic flow through her, her body a conduit for the elements that surround them. It's clear now. This is the only chance that she has to beat him. He doesn't need to remind her that she is out of practice. She understands without his gloating that he has been training non-stop since he left.
It's the only reason why he is so confident, after all. He could never have beaten her before, without his current advantages.
"Too bad," Alex sneers, and his wand movement is so quick that she fails to throw up a Protego in time; a jet of green light hitting her square in the chest. It's non-verbal, but there is not a single witch or wizard on either ship that doesn't recognise the killing curse.
She hears the gasps of shock around her, and bends over in pain, choking in lungfuls of air. It might not have had the intended effect, but it feels just like Hermione imagines taking ten Stupefies to the chest might. Bellatrix is by her side in an instant, an arm around her waist to support her. She can feel the witch's confusion, and it matches her brother's, bringing an unwilling smile to her lips.
"What the fuck?" Alex growls angrily, and Hermione forces herself up to face him, grinning cockily in a way that she knows will infuriate him. She can't let him see how shaken she is. How shocked she is that he actually went straight in with a non-verbal 'Avada Kadavra', rather than duel with her first.
"Did you forget, little brother?" she taunts, still grinning as her breathing slowly returns to normal.
"We're the same age," he growls back at her, the response automatic and born of his many years feeling inferior due to the mere eight minutes between their births. She can see that he wants to ask what she means, holding back only because his ego won't let him show her his lack of understanding.
She enlightens him anyway. "We're twins. We're bonded for life whether you like it or not, Alex. You can't kill me. Not with a simple killing curse, at least."
It's almost comical how his mouth drops open as he remembers this small fact. His expression oscillates between confusion, anger and then determination, before he lands back on anger again. "Then I'll have to get creative," he snarls. He sets off a flurry of spells, and Hermione recognises the signature wand movement for 'Bombarda' as it makes contact with the ship's hull, bouncing off harmlessly.
"Stop, Alex. You don't need to do this," Hermione pleads. It's pure luck that he hit the hull. He had aimed there with the intention of sinking them, she's sure, but obviously unaware of the protective enchantments the antique ship is safeguarded by. The Black Serpent will repel any magical attacks to it's main body, and from what Hermione knows, it's a secret that's been kept well guarded over the years lest they give their adversaries any advantage. The magic that protects them is as ancient as Hermione's own, and the hull holds strong, despite being near the magnetic pole.
He doesn't answer, narrowing his eyes. "A killing curse might not work, but an injury will. You're not as infallible as you might think. You're weak, Hermione."
It's true, and she knows it. A well placed 'Diffindo' is more than enough to end this between them.
She reluctantly raises her wand. There is no reasoning with the man in front of her. She wonders what he has been up to all these years. Has he really spent all this time hating her and planning his revenge, and for what? Access to a magical island that he never really showed any interest in before? The rights to a throne that isn't even in power anymore?
As much as she doesn't want to believe it, the Alex she knows is always single minded and determined to get what he wants, no matter what the cost. No matter 'who' the cost.
She's startled from her thoughts by spells whizzing towards her and she instinctively blocks. "Get back," she yells behind her at the crew. "Take cover. Now!"
"Hermione-"
"Not now, Bella. Do as I say," Hermione snaps, risking a quick glance behind her. It's heartbreaking the fear and helplessness that she can see on her girlfriend's face.
She blocks another of Alex's spells, resigning herself to the fight, and tries to push her concerns about everyone else from her mind. She needs this to end before anyone gets hurt, and the only way to do that is to fight back. She changes her stance, no longer on the defensive, and focuses all her mental ability on the man in front of her.
His smile falters when she sends back a curse unknown to any other witch. It's a combination of things that she pulls directly out of the air itself. It hits home, and the smell of burnt hair reaches her, making her gag slightly.
His wand hand vaguely smoking, Alex spits blood down onto the deck. "Don't hold back, Sis. Is that all you've got?" he goads, but there is a flicker of real fear that Hermione wonders if she can somehow use.
She fires off a volley of four spells, ignoring Bellatrix's quiet order behind her as she tells the crew to make sure they are ready to fire on command. She can't think about them right now. All her energy and concentration has to be on Alex if she is going to win this fight.
Alex counters each spell far more easily than Hermione had predicted, and she feels an ounce of respect for him, though she squashes that down firmly. His training is showing, and at another time under different circumstances, she might feel proud of his talents. He's come a long way since he left Port Ventus.
She continues with her offensive, surprised when he breaks through her attacks with increasingly desperate spells that occasionally hit home. She's bleeding from a cut to her right side where one of his damage spells broke through her shields, slicing easily through the soft fabric of her shirt and into the tender flesh underneath.
It feels like hours that they are fighting and she recognises the fatigue on her brother's face. It's the same bone-weary tiredness that she is feeling herself, after all. Alex is getting sloppy, but as she returns yet another hex, she muses that it makes him more dangerous. Desperate and angry, the intention and weight behind his spells is becoming more forceful, and with every block she throws up, she feels her reserves draining away.
Alex hesitates, not returning fire in the way she had expected, his eyes lighting up triumphantly as his gaze locks on something behind her. She turns her head forty five degrees, and her heart leaps into her throat, thudding heavily.
"Uncle Alex?"
"Rose! Get downstairs!" Hermione shouts, turning her back on her daughter so that she can keep an eye on her brother. His eyes flick back to hers, his wand arm twitching and she braces herself, throwing up a shield, but the impact never comes. Eyes gleaming victoriously, he grins malevolently, and then Hermione understands.
"No! Alex, NO!"
He waves his wand in the air, eyes locked on Hermione's own, as her daughter walks past her. Rose's eyes are glazed over and she doesn't need to have heard the spell to understand that he is controlling her with 'Imperio'.
"Now, let's try this again, shall we?" Alex asks, still grinning. "If you want your daughter to live, then you will do exactly what I say."
"Please, Alex. Please don't hurt her. She's done nothing wrong," Hermione pleads, and she doesn't care that she is begging. He has her right where he wants her and they both know it.
"You will come with us, Hermione, or your daughter dies."
"And what then? You'll kill Hermione once you're done with her?" Bellatrix snarls from behind Hermione. "Not on my watch, you fucker!"
"Not necessarily," Alex counters, eyes gleaming maliciously. "If she grants us entry to Atlantis, then I am sure that we'll have some fun with her." The crew of The Voldemort laugh at his statement, and Hermione understands then, exactly what her fate is should she go with them. It's die now in front of her daughter, or die later at the hands of his crew, and she doesn't want to imagine how much torture she will go through first.
"And what guarantee do I have that you won't harm Rose or the crew?" she forces herself to ask calmly. If she can keep him talking, she might be able to find a way out of this. She's in the middle of the deck of The Black Serpent, Rose standing between her and her brother.
He gestures with his wand. "Be a good girl, Rose. Climb on the railing for me."
As she watches, her daughter mechanically does as she is told, her movements jerky and uncoordinated, and the breath leaves Hermione's lungs in a rush.
"You don't have any guarantees," Alex points out, answering her previous question with a brief shrug, dismissing her concerns. "But the way I see it, you don't really have much of a choice. I could easily kill you now, but since you are the key to it all, it perhaps makes more sense to take you with us."
She allows herself to wonder if perhaps he has lost his stomach for the idea of killing her. If perhaps he still cares for her, locked away under all that hate and vitriol. One look in his eye soon rids her of that notion, though, and she lets out a weary sigh.
"You won't get away with this, Alex. Do you really think the crew will go down without a fight? If you come at us, then you have to know that you're going down with us. You're not close enough to any city to Disapparate safely."
Hermione can hear footsteps behind her, Bellatrix and Narcissa flanking her sides. Narcissa takes her hand, and she turns to look at her, eyes questioning. Narcissa shakes her head, but her voice rings as clearly in Hermione's mind as if the witch had spoken out loud.
"Don't panic, Hermione. As long as I maintain a physical connection to you, I can use Legilimency. I can help Rose."
Brow furrowing, Hermione is even more confused, reluctantly turning her eyes back to Alex. She doesn't trust him not to take advantage of her moment of distraction. "Rose, get down, Sweetheart. Come on," she calls out desperately.
She hears Narcissa again, keeping her gaze forward, focused on what is happening in front of her so that Alex doesn't realise that they are communicating.
"She's fighting him, Hermione. Keep him distracted for as long as possible. She can do this. You have to trust her. Rose is more powerful than you realise."
It's impossible to miss the pride overlaying the urgency of Narcissa's words, and Hermione feels her heart swelling with warmth for the Black Sisters and their crew. They have all taken Rose under their wing, accepting her into their mismatched family without a second thought, just as they have Hermione.
Feeling a fresh rush of determination, she turns back to Alex who is staring at her, eyebrow raised.
Hermione shrugs. "What's the plan here, Alex? Let's say I come with you to Atlantis and grant you entry. What then?"
"I get what I deserve," he replies instantly. "I get everything that I should have had from the beginning. Everything that you stole from me."
"Stole from you? You think I did this on purpose?"
"If it wasn't for you, I would have inherited it all. It would all be mine!"
Hermione shakes her head. "It's not my fault I was born before you. And it wasn't our parents fault that this meant I was entitled to things as the heir that you never were. I know you're angry with them, Alex, but they didn't choose this for either of us."
Alex scowls, hand twitching on his wand. He flicks his eyes to where Rose is perched precariously on the railings, knuckles white as she grips the wood. He turns back to Hermione. "They didn't change it. They didn't even try."
"It's ancient magic, you idiot," Hermione snaps, her patience wearing thin and the exhaustion from their fight making her irritable. "They didn't make the rules, just as I didn't. Neither of us can change it."
"Keep going, Darling," Narcissa's voice trickles into her mind like syrup. "She's nearly there."
Alex walks closer to the railings again, dangerously close to where Rose is. "I either kill you now and the rest of your crew, Rose included, or you come with us and you might get a chance to live. Time is running out, Sister. It's time to choose."
"He likes the idea of keeping you alive, just to watch you suffer," Narcissa warns her. "I can feel his emotions. He wants revenge and killing you is just not enough. He's going to sink the ship with all of us on it, including Rose. He wants you to watch us all die, and then kill you himself when he doesn't need you anymore."
The feeling of white hot anger that floods through Hermione's veins makes her blood boil, her hands letting off small white sparks which sting her palms, focusing her attention sharply. She screams with all her might, dropping Narcissa's hand and forcing her magic to leave her body in a powerful stream. For a moment she thinks that this is it. That this might be enough. This pure adrenaline she can feel leaving her body, seeking out its target with unerring accuracy.
Alex is well trained though, and it takes him less than a second to throw up his wand hand, countering with a blast of magic that feels just like Hermione's at its core, but at the same time, completely alien. It feels dark and dangerous, corrupted to the point of being its own malevolent force and she wonders who is controlling who. In a moment of clarity it becomes clear; Alex is no longer controlling his magic, the magic is controlling him. Alex is just the host. His magic has become more than him, feeding on the darkness in his soul like a parasite.
Sweat pouring from her brow, Hermione widens her stance, grateful for the presence of two hands on her back, offering her quiet support; Bellatrix and Narcissa. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rose break free from Alex's hold, slipping from the railing back onto the deck, where she collapses in a sobbing heap. Andromeda runs over, gathering Rose in her arms, and scooping her up. The sheer relief she feels seeing her daughter taken to safety pushes her forwards, and she smirks at her brother's rapidly tiring face, barely resisting the urge to laugh at his dismay.
"You won't win, Hermione," he grunts out, in what she suspects he thinks is a taunt, but they are both too tired now, drained from their fight.
"No," she calls back. "I won't lose, Alex, and do you know why?"
"You're not as powerful as I am," her brother replies, though there is a significant amount of doubt present on his face.
She does laugh then. "Maybe." She shrugs. "Maybe not, but that's not why I will win."
"Oh, do enlighten me," Alex tells her with a roll of his eyes, and it's easy to see he is just buying himself a little time to recover while he readies himself for his next attack.
"I have something you don't," Hermione informs him, feeling lighter than she has since the fight began, the love of the crew filling her up buoyantly. "Something worth fighting for."
It's true, and she can see that Alex understands the power of a cause, but he eventually smirks.
"You still don't want to hurt me, even now, and it shows," Alex tells her, and she knows with a sinking feeling that he's right.
No matter how angry she is, can she really go through with this? They can't use a quick and painless killing curse on each other, which means they can only die at each other's hands from the severity of their injuries. Can she really do that to him? Chip away at his body until he eventually collapses, unable to sustain his life-force any longer?
Lost in her thoughts, she spots his change of stance half a second too late. When he breaks eye contact, he sends a barrage of spells her way, her skin peeling away from the ribs on her left hand side. He hits her again, taking advantage of her shock and pain, and although she throws up her wand arm, her shield isn't strong enough to protect her. She watches in horror as the blisters appear on her left arm and hand, peeling away the flesh until the white of her bone is visible, poking through where her wrist once was.
He's really going to kill her, her mind informs her dimly, ears buzzing loudly. There is no way out of this now, but to fight fire with fire. If she doesn't then they are all dead, and that is something that Hermione just cannot let happen. Her thoughts dance from Rose, to Bellatrix, to Narcissa and Andromeda. Luna's happy smiling face comes to life in her mind, Ginny's gentle teasing, and Harry's quiet company as they prepare food together. The buzzing in her ears builds to a crescendo and she snaps.
The snarl on her face is feral, and she spins away from the spells he is sending her way. She understands the expression 'seeing red' for the first time in her life, but it's not just a saying, it's magical. She sees the red threads of energy connecting each and every thing in the world, both living and inanimate, and suddenly she understands. She understands ancient magic in a way that she never has before, and she feels her lips curling into a grin when Alex falters.
Her left arm is weak, but she effortlessly holds him at bay with her hand outstretched, directing and channelling her magic. She throws down her wand with her right, and uses her bare hand to manipulate an instinctual urge that comes from deep inside her soul, a connection to the elements stronger than ever before. All eyes are on her, and the crew of The Voldemort, her brother included, don't understand the danger that they are in. The fifty foot wave of water that has risen up behind their ship goes unnoticed until its shadow falls across the deck and Alex looks up.
The fear in his eyes before the wave comes crashing down has Hermione cackling in a way that she absently thinks Bellatrix would be proud of. Just before the ship is swallowed by the rising water, she catches the movement of his arm, a dagger flying towards her chest. Exhausted, she throws up a shield, but it's not even close to being strong enough, and the dagger tears into the muscles of her stomach, dropping her to her knees.
"Noooo! Mum!"
"Rose, it's o-" she runs out of breath, a pained gasp escaping her body as blood drips from her mouth onto the deck below.
Hermione can only watch as Rose runs towards the railings, leaping up on the wide edge, Andromeda trailing helplessly after her. As Hermione watches, Rose's palms are raised, magic spilling out of her endlessly. Much like Hermione's own signature brand of elemental magic, it's like she has drawn the static straight from the air, sending an electrical current at the foaming water that is crashing down on Riddle's ship.
Her last thought before Hermione loses consciousness is that water and electricity don't mix. No matter what happens to her now, she no longer needs to be strong. Alex and the rest of Riddle's crew have no way of surviving the hell that Rose has unleashed on them.
Hermione's breath rattles in her chest and she knows she doesn't have long now, but it doesn't matter. Rose is safe, the crew are safe, and it is a better outcome than she could possibly have imagined when she saw Alex for the first time.
She hears the anguish in Bellatrix's scream. Can feel hands tugging her against a familiar chest, the scent of neroli surrounding her in a blanket of comfort. She can't open her eyes, let alone speak, the last vestiges of her consciousness fading into black as the world around her disappears.