AN: Hello, fanfiction and Harry Potter fans. I do not own Harry Potter, but feel free to enjoy this or hate it. If you enjoy it, please leave a lovely comment, if you hate it, then leave some constructive criticism, thanks!
Can You Take the Jump?
Chapter 42
Regulus paced the floor of his room, trying to release the nervous energy that coursed through his body. It was the day of the Initiation. He could not sit still, fidgeting with the chain necklace that Hermione and Lucius had given him last night.
He was supposed to give it to Sirius and put it around his neck before the night began, but his crazy bitch of a mother had locked his brother's room. If it wasn't enough to lock him in the house, his brother was locked in his room with no one allowed to enter except herself. Regulus had tried sliding the necklace under the crack of his door, but it'd been magicked to prevent anything from sliding underneath or between the hinges.
Remember, he needs to have it around his neck for the portkey to transport him to the safe location. Hermione warned him. Otherwise, your brother is fucked.
It doesn't even have to be around his neck. His arm, his wrist, his leg, it doesn't matter. Lucius informed. Just around him somehow, touching his bare skin.
It must be in contact with his bare skin. Hermione emphasized. It's the only way the necklace can feel how much duress Sirius is in. Only after a certain level, it will break and transport him out of Malfoy Manor.
What level are we talking about? Regulus asked.
Hermione had clenched her jaw, Near death.
Regulus's eyes flickered between the two Slytherins, wondering if they were exaggerating, but had only seen pure seriousness in their faces.
Near death?!
Your brother made a Wizarding Oath with your mother to obey Voldemort's wishes and commands. Hermione explained. If we pull him out immediately, Sirius will likely die because he hasn't followed any of Voldemort's orders yet. The only loophole was that your mother never asked him to devote himself, swear fealty for a specified amount of time. I'm hoping that obeying his commands once or twice will be good enough.
I still don't get the 'near death' part.
When has Sirius ever simply done what he was told to do? Hermione deadpanned. Even answering a simple question like "How are you?" "Do you know who I am?" will be met with contempt and resistance before he reluctantly answers.
And the Oath will cause him pain, Regulus had realized. Pain severe enough to cause near death.
They had nodded.
Even refusing him once or twice will cause immense pain. The necklace will be able to measure that, break, then apparate him to a safe location.
What if Voldemort asks him to do something Sirius would never do, right from the beginning?
Hermione looked thoughtful, but in the end, she shook her head. Voldemort is dramatic, he loves watching pain grow. He's an intelligent sadist, he'll quickly catch that Sirius is in pain every time he doesn't answer a question. He'll want to make it last.
Regulus's stomach had turned uncomfortably, bile rising to his chest.
What happens if I fail? He'd croaked
You won't, Hermione's voice had a tone of confidence that didn't allow for most people to refute her claims, but Regulus was not 'most people'.
But what if?
Hermione and Lucius glanced at each other before turning to him and speaking at the same time, You mustn't.
The pressure was on. Hermione and Malfoy didn't have a backup plan. If he failedhis brother was going to die, and his last day as a living man was going to be spent stuck inside his fucking room like a caged animal.
"URGH!" he punched his bed repeatedly, messing up his neat sheets. He ripped the corners out of his mattress cover, punched his comforter and threw his pillow, but his bed magically remade itself, which only succeeded in annoying him further. For once he wanted to be surrounded by mess like his brother's room so that his surroundings could match the chaos in his mind. His neat room was the polar opposite of what he knew Sirius's to be. He was the model child. His Slytherin banners were displayed proudly in pristine condition, steamed, and dusted nearly every day by Kreature. His bed was immaculately made, everything was orderly, clean, and neat, just like his mother liked it.
On the other hand, Sirius had his room in complete and utter disarray. Muggle band posters, cut-outs of muggle motorbikes with half-naked girls, a tattered Gryffindor banner (tattered by mother dearest), his Gryffindor beater quidditch jersey, and pictures of his friends hung on the wall. Dirty and clean laundry, plastic wrappings and boxes from sweets and snacks, books, muggle magazines, drawings made by Hermione that he wanted tattooed, and his broom and broom polish littered the ebony floors. Regulus genuinely didn't know how his brother accumulated so much muggle paraphernalia, considering their mother burned them in their backyard every week.
Regulus watched the clock in his room tick by, seconds going to waste with the damn necklace, not around his brother's bloody neck.
He had 4 hours.
"Bloody hell." He groaned.
…
Severus listened to her plan with wide eyes.
"You're trusting Black to get the necklace around his brother's neck?" He asked with disbelief. "You? The least trusting person I fucking know, you?"
"If I don't trust Regulus with this basic fucking task, how can I trust him to do anything in the future?"
"But you have a backup, right?" Severus paused. "Right?"
Hermione sighed, "Of course, I have a fucking backup. I just didn't let Regulus know because I wanted him to try his damn fucking hardest, not rely on the backup plan. Getting the necklace around Sirius's and it breaking under duress is the cleanest way for this night to end. It's the best and safest option plan."
"Holy Merlin's balls, so you're willing to give the kid a fucking aneurism to get your fucking boyfriend out of that hellhole? What about Regulus's goddamn wellbeing, huh? Did you think about that?"
"What greater incentive?"
"Avery, Lucius, and Black are all in danger tonight, but you only see Sirius Black?" Severus shook his head. "Rescuing Sirius is a personal mission that you've put them up to."
"Sirius is Regulus's brother. It's personal for him too."
"Then you should have TOLD him the entire fucking plan!" Severus shouted. "But instead, you've let a 14-year-old think he's the only standing between his brother and death."
She shook her head, "Just because I have a backup doesn't mean it's a good one! I need him to think that this plan was the only viable option because it basically is!"
"What do you mean?"
"The backup plan is that I go to Malfoy Manor, cause a big enough distraction and apparate Sirius out of there myself." Hermione sighed. "But if I'm caught…my memories with all of you…the plan with Regulus is the only truly viable option. This way, no one else is involved."
"Fuck." Severus rubbed his face from frustration. "I can go. I will go make the distraction."
Hermione shook her head, "No, Sev."
"I can. And we don't have to worry about memories because the second I'm out of your presence, my memories are as good as wiped."
"Sev, you're not ready. You can't fight all those Death Eaters on your own. You're not skilled enough. You'd die, Sirius would die…it'd be a pointless mission."
Severus blinked, but he sat down with what sounded like a sigh of relief. "I never thought the words "you aren't skilled enough" could cause this much relief." He confessed.
"Thank you for offering," Hermione mustered her best smile.
The two sat in silence, allowing it to stretch for an unknown amount of time.
"How will you know if Regulus succeeded?"
"If Regulus manages to secure the necklace on Sirius before the initiation, he will alert Lucius and me." She held up a galleon. "It's a protean charm."
"That's N.E.W.T level magic."
She shrugged like it was no big deal she was using advanced magic at such a young age.
"Come on, Regulus." She clasped her hands together and squeezed them tightly while glancing at the clock.
2 hours and 15 minutes until the Initiation.
…
Lucius swirled his whiskey glass, although all the ice had already melted. He hadn't taken a sip of alcohol tonight but had poured himself a drink out of habit. He pulled out his pocket watch. Twenty minutes before the Initiation, and no word from Regulus.
"Fuck."
He stood from his seat, snapping his fingers. Dobby appeared in front of him, carrying his Death Eater garb and his mask. He traced his finger on the intricate designs on his mask. There was a time when he desperately wanted this mask, to stand next to him like his father had, ridding the world of the dirt that was known as Muggleborns that infested their world and their lives.
He'd thought it noble, righteous, and grand.
What an idiot he was. Or maybe she was the one who had wormed her way into his mind and planted these traitorous thoughts and ideas, just like his father had warned him. However, he knew he was lost as soon as he realized that her survival wasn't enough. He wanted her to thrive. He wanted her to live her life without the obstacles he knew the world had for people like her, obstacles people like he and his father had placed.
Whatever the reason, it was in him now…this desire for her to live amongst him and his people. If he could pick and choose, he would only want her to remain, fuck the rest of the mudbloods, but he knew she wouldn't stand for that so here he was, helping her save her kind.
Lucius pulled his arms through the sleeves of his robes and placed the mask over his face. Moulding to his bone structure and a little bit of magic, it was a perfect fit, requiring no strings to keep it on his face.
He glanced at his galleon for the last time, no sign from Regulus.
It was time to welcome his guests.
One by one, Death Eaters flooed into Malfoy Manor, and Lucius stood in his ballroom to greet them like the host he knew he had to be. His fiancée and her family were the first to arrive. Other than Mr. Black and Bella, who were Death Eaters, the rest of the family dressed ostentatiously, showing off their wealth to the Pureblood families they knew would be in attendance tonight.
He gave Mr. Black a firm handshake and Mrs. Black a kiss on the hand.
"Narcissa," Lucius took her outstretched hand and touched his lips to her knuckles. She blushed prettily, but there was uncertainty in her eyes.
"I believe congratulations are to be said for you, Bella." He commented on the fat diamond on her finger. "Rodolphus is a good man." That was a bigger lie than the gemstone on Bella's finger. The older Lestrange brother was a vile and cruel man who had a string of dead whores trailing behind him. Many important individuals knew of this, including Bella's parents, but they clearly had no qualms or concerns.
"Yes, the Lestranges are a Pure and noble family." Mr. Black nodded, clearly proud of the union that his beautiful daughters were able to bring in. "The two have decided to quickly tie the knot, to serve the Dark Lord to their fullest capacity."
Lucius glanced at Bellatrix's face to see any indication of betrayal she might feel towards her parents for practically selling her off to a horrid man like Rodolphus Lestrange, but she remained stiff-faced, searching the ballroom for someone.
"You should give my dearest Cissy a tour of the House after the meeting is over. This is the house she will live in for the rest of her life, after all." Mrs. Black suggested with a sly and eager smile.
Their emotions were too easy to read, they held nothing back. The glint in the Black matriarch's eye told him that she was hoping that something more than a tour would happen tonight to cement their union, even before the wedding.
Had people always been this easy to read? No. He was just used to trying to read someone much more reserved than them. He was used to searching for nano-sized changes in expression.
"If the night ends well, then perhaps," Lucius spoke agreeably, knowing that the night would be a disaster, regardless of Regulus's success or not.
"I must greet the rest of the guests, excuse me." He excused himself, but he could hear light footsteps following behind him, a step behind, matching his pace, quiet to make sure they were not louder than his.
"Was there something you needed, Miss Narcissa?" He asked formally.
His fiancée looked upset by his formality, although she was the one who'd initiated it through her walking. She wouldn't have been behind him. She would have stood next to him, or even in front of him.
He internally shook himself. He should not be thinking of her at a time like this. Not when so many of their worst enemies stood amongst him.
"I-I thought I'd greet some of your guests with you as your…" She trailed off.
"No, I'm perfectly capable of doing this on your own. There will be complimentary drinks and food coming around any second now," all of which Hermione had planned, despite it being a job that the Lady of the house would normally do. "Enjoy the night, Miss Narcissa."
Just as Narcissa open her mouth to respond, an elf appeared next to her with a loud crack, cutting off whatever she was about to say.
"Brie mushroom pastry, Miss?" He asked as what seemed like live classical music started playing around the ballroom, although its source could not be found.
"I—" she looked up once more, only to see Lucius greeting the Averys. "No," she sighed to the elf. "No, thank you."
Lucius approached the Averys, who were the next to arrive. The Averys were Pureblooded and did well for themselves, but not nearly well enough for Fredrick Avery Jnr. to be selected for early candidacy to the Death Eaters had it not been for Hermione's genius Potion making that Avery took credit for.
Avery clearly had the same thought, regretting his life choices as he stood in the familiar grand ballroom where they usually practiced duelling, pale as a ghost. His eyes were wide with fear, giving him the most desperate look he'd ever received from anyone.
"Lucius, my boy!" Avery Snr greeted loudly.
"Mr. and Mrs. Avery." Lucius greeted, not nearly as loudly as the older man. "I have not been a boy for a long time, and from what I understand, neither will young Avery after tonight."
Mrs. Avery squeezed her son's shoulder tightly clearly proud of her son's achievement, not even aware of what she was proud of. Lucius almost felt sorry for her. Unlike what most people assume, not all families that come tonight are aware of what this group exactly was. They just thought their children were invited into an exclusive and elite group that will push their children and their families further ahead in life. However, Lucius knew, that once you were in his sights, there was no going back. Whatever Voldemort wanted, he got, whether it was your money, your life, your child, or your soul. It did not matter.
Not bothering to look at Avery's silent cries for help, Lucius gave them an easy smile. "You must be very proud of him."
"You have no idea," Avery Snr, clapped his son on the back, nearly sending him falling to the ground. "I don't even know where he gets his talent from. Neither my wife nor I have such talent in the art of Potions."
They continued to speak for a few minutes until Lucius excused himself to greet more guests. Several families were in attendance tonight, much larger than he had expected, but still within Hermione's predictions. Her expertly chosen selection of food and drinks served them well. Lucius was amazed at how good she was at planning such a sophisticated event for members of the upper class. The food was flavourful, with varying richness. The different wines that circulated complimented the food perfectly. She wasn't even legally allowed to drink yet, how did she know such pairings?
The Carrows, Dolohov, the Lestranges, Rosier, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Travers, and even young Yaxley and Mulciber were here. This was nearly everyone. Nearly.
Where in Merlin's name were the Blacks?
There was an itch to check his protean galleon, but he restrained himself. He played the part of the host perfectly until the fire flared to reveal the very man that sucked life and light out of the room.
All the serving Death Eaters fell to one knee, while the rest deeply bowed at the sight of their Dark Lord.
The King of Devils himself walked to the center of the room where Lucius had placed a throne for him to sit on, one that the Malfoys had somehow possessed over their long history of taking what they believed was rightfully theirs. His feet were not making a single sound as they moved as if he was gliding.
"Ah, Lucius!" He called upon him. Only then did Lucius lift his head and stand up. He formed his best people-pleasing smile.
"My Lord," He greeted, bowing deeply when he stepped in front of him. "I hope the floo trip was not too much of a hassle for you to take. I had offered to escort you personally, but my owl returned without the letter ever being opened."
"My dear Lucius," a long slender finger with long nails scraped the side of his face, under his chin to lift his face. "I had a personal matter to attend to prior to tonight but using a floo like a mere commoner was rather…unpleasant."
His heart skipped a beat in his chest, "My deepest apologies my Lord. Next time I will attach a portkey to the letter for your convenience. I am ashamed of my short-sightedness."
"Hmm," was all he said. For some reason, it made Lucius more nervous.
"I was surprised to hear you offer your home for the Initiations today. I was expecting to see the whole Manor occupied with wedding decorations."
"My elves have removed the wedding preparations for tonight."
Voldemort looked across the ballroom, "ah, and there is your dearly beloved. What a vision you are my dear."
Lucius did not dare to turn around, but he could hear the light steps he'd heard only a few minutes ago approach the throne.
"What a fair couple, indeed. It will be the wedding of the century."
"I should hope so, my lord, considering the dent I've put into my family's fortune, planning this wedding," Narcissa joked. The soft-spoken girl whose voice shook when speaking to her own fiancée was gone, replaced with a proud woman who had the stomach to make a joke to the Dark Lord.
So shocked by the change, Lucius forgot his place and turned to his fiancée, his mouth slightly agape. She didn't look at him but smiled gently as she looked up at Voldemort.
The silence was suffocating until a small puff of air escape the Dark Lord's mouth, then another and another. Lucius couldn't comprehend what he was hearing, but he quickly joined him. It was only when he was echoing the sounds did he realize it was a laugh.
Narcissa Black had managed to make the Dark Lord laugh.
Everyone followed suit, laughing at his fiancée's little joke when the fire roared to reveal the final guests. Walburga Black stood tall and center, dragging a thin and beaten elf behind her, with her drunkard husband flanking her side.
Upon closer inspection, Lucius realized the beaten skinny elf was not an elf at all, but a boy. Sirius Black looked drastically different from what he remembered at Alphard Black's funeral. He'd lost a dramatic amount of weight, most of his luscious hair had been chopped off, and various areas of his skin were littered with bruises of varying degrees of freshness. His wrists and ankles had raw and angry red markings around them as if he'd been tied up, but they were the only lively colour on the boy. His lips and skin were pale from malnutrition and lack of sunlight. His eyes were dull from hunger and torture.
Regulus wasn't with them.
He looked at Sirius Black's bare neck.
Fuck.
"My lord," Walburga gushed in a way that he'd only heard Bellatrix do. "I deeply apologize for my tardiness. My invalid of a son was…uncooperative, but as you can see, he is here, at your disposal to obey any of your commands."
Lucius felt bad for the boy, not only for his current state and the tortures he'd endured at his own mother's hands but for the fact that his mother was selling him off to a lunatic. Walburga Black was not like Mrs. Avery. She knew exactly what kind of demon Voldemort was, yet she was giving him her son regardless.
Using the Black's appearance as a distraction, Lucius quietly stepped back, allowing the small family to take center stage. He discretely placed his hand into his pocket and tightly wrapped his fingers around the charmed galleon.
Squeeze squeeze squeeze.
…
Hermione jumped when her galleon burned hot three times in a row.
"FUCK."
Severus jumped up with her, "What happened?"
"Regulus failed."
"Fuck!" He groaned into his hands, stress and frustration skyrocketing.
"Wait, Hermione, let's think about this. We're talking about risking everything. Don't…don't go."
Hermione froze, "What if it was Lily?"
A gasp lodged itself in Severus's throat, unable to escape. "You love him?" He croaked.
She didn't bother to respond. She turned to Pinky and let out a shaky breath. "Do you remember what I told you?"
Pinky nodded firmly, "Pinky is there to just gather information. Pinky will not draw attention to himself. Pinky is to remain visible, yet invisible to the people there. Ask Dobby the House Elf for help."
Hermione nodded, "For once, being perceived as a creature that is 'less than' will help you stay inconspicuous. No one will realize that a new elf has joined the serving staff."
Pinky set out to leave, but Hermione grabbed him once more.
"Pinky," she clenched her jaw. "Promise me you'll get out of there if there is even a slight air of danger for you."
"Yes, Miss."
She rolled her wand in her hand, looking deep in thought.
Pinky would be able to go to Malfoy Manor with ease. Elven magic was often able to bypass man's because of their inherent differences. Witches and wizards were born with magic, but elves and other magical creatures were born from it. Wizarding magic was powerful because it went against the grain of nature, however, it often required a wand. Unicorn hairs, dragon heartstrings, phoenix feathers, and the wood from trees grown in magical forests are all used because they act as mediums to control the chaos created by wizarding magic. It wasn't like witches and wizards didn't have magic within then, but it was smaller, and harder to tap into, so to amplify it, they broke it down and corrupted it as it left their bodies, using a wand to not only amplify but control it. Some people had more magic to tap into, while others barely had a speck, leaving them magicless despite being born from a family with magic.
Therefore, when you give an elf a wand…
"Take this," Hermione placed her bristlecone pine wand into her elf's hand.
"Mistress, I-I canno—"
"Take. It." She insisted, forcefully curling his fingers around the wood. "Do not, under any circumstances play the hero. You are going there to collect information on the situation and that is all. Do not draw attention to yourself. Do not act, even if you see something you wish to stop. Do not even make a sound. Do not talk to anyone, not even Lucius. I'm giving this to you because… because if worse come to worst, I permit you to use it. Escape. Don't ever let them take you."
His wide eyes grew even wider as he held her wand in trembling hands. It was illegal for an elf to even touch a wand let alone use it.
"I will not fail you, miss."
…
Pinky hid his mistress's wand under his tunic and wrapped it around his body with a string to ensure it wouldn't drop. He cracked into Malfoy Manor's least human inhabited area, the kitchen. As expected, the place was bustling with elves, but not a single wizard or witch could be seen.
"Pinky!"
"Dobby! Master Lucius sent Mistress a distress signal. Pinky has been sent to bring back information discretely. Pinky must go upstairs. Dobby must help. Pinky cannot fail his Mistress, or else Mistress will cry. Her heart is already so broken because of Master Alphard's death."
Dobby nodded. "Miss Hermione warned Dobby this may happen." A brief look of hesitation passed his face, but he called out to one of the elves who just arrived after passing out some wine.
"Barton! Take off the uniform and give it to Pinky."
"Pinky? He's not part of this house."
"Barton, Master will understand."
Barton clearly did not believe his fellow house elf, and neither of them blamed him, Lucius was not known to be an understanding Master.
"If Master Lucius does not understand, Dobby will take the blame. Dobby will accept the punishment."
The large eyes flicked back and forth between the two elves, but Barton set the tray of glassware down and started unbuttoning his uniform which consisted of relatively cleaner clothes than the rag that Dobby wore.
"Barton wants his clothes back after."
"Pinky will even give Barton a new set," Pinky promised, knowing that gift-giving of clothes between House elves was a big deal. Clothes were a rare commodity amongst elves. Without their owner's permission, they weren't even allowed to use cloth to make themselves clothes due to past incidences where elves accidentally or intentionally freed themselves.
With Barton's clothes on, Pinky picked up a new tray with champagne and walked up the stairs to where he knew the Initiation took place.
To say he felt a chill upon entering was an understatement. It was freezing in the ballroom, even though Pinky could see several fireplaces fighting the biting cold. Natural fire could not warm this unnatural cold he felt from the center of the room. He couldn't see exactly what was causing it, hidden by the tall stature of witches and wizards. Pinky started stepping around them, making sure to pause when he saw a hand reach for a glass of champagne out of his peripheral vision.
Once Pinky pushed through the crowd, he saw the one thing that his mistress had been trying to stop so desperately.
Master Alphard's dearest nephew was crouching on the floor, his condition was horrifying. He was so skinny, that he reminded him of his mistress on March 5th. His handsome face was gaunt, and his hair had been hastily chopped off unevenly. His eyes had lost their light, the glimmer that Pinky had seen shine through him all the time he'd known the young master was gone. A thought of lifting his Mistress's wand passed through Pinky's mind, but he quietly rejected it.
"Today you've gathered to devote yourselves to our cause. We will be the new generation. We will be the rulers of this society, ridding our lives, our world, of the filth that lives among us…"
The other initiates stood facing the most good-looking man Pinky had ever seen. He wasn't very tall, but he presented himself like he was the tallest man in the world. He had perfectly styled black hair behind dark eyes, which were framed by long lashes. He had a long straight nose, with a sharp jawline. The vein along his pale, long, and slender neck pumped as he spoke passionately to the crowd.
Pinky discretely scanned the crowd, only to notice that the younger nephew wasn't present.
"You there, elf." Pinky turned to see Lucius calling him over. He walked over to him, making sure the glass never clinked nor a drop of champagne dripped. Once close enough, in a very low voice, he gave him the smallest shake of his head.
"He's not here. He failed."
Pinky replied with a small nod of his own. He continued to serve out the glasses of champagne until his tray was empty then he headed back to the kitchens where he thanked Dobby and Barton and immediately returned to his mistress to relay what he found out.
"What do you mean he's not there?" Hermione asked when Pinky returned.
"He was not there, miss. Young master Black did not have the necklace around his neck. Pinky checked with his own eyes and Master Malfoy confirmed it."
"You spoke with Lucius?" Severus asked.
Pinky shook his head, "No Mister Malfoy spoke to Pinky."
"Was Walburga there? And what about Orion Black?"
"Yes, miss. They were there."
"Then the house is empty," Hermione muttered. "Pinky." She gripped his small shoulders once more. "I need you to do me one last favour. I need you to go to the Black House and get the necklace from Regulus and give it to me. Do you think you can do that?"
"Yes, miss."
Without a second of hesitation, Pinky snapped his fingers once more and arrived in the center of Grimmauld Place. He shuddered. He never thought he'd be back here again in his lifetime. This place held no good memories for him. Kreature was the only elf that remained due to his obsessive allegiance to Mistress Walburga Black. The rest of the elves were either dead or sold off for being incompetent after the crazy witch had beaten them until they were permanently crippled, unable to complete their daily tasks.
"Kreature?" Pinky called out. "It's Pinky." The two elves were not on good terms, not just because their two masters used to be on unfavourable terms, but because the two elves had fundamentally different attitudes toward their servitude toward their respective masters. Pinky believed in a certain level of free will and demanded respect and kindness. Kreature… All elves were devoted to some degree, even if their masters were terrible, but Kreature was insane with his devotion to his Mistress, thus believed his methods to be the best form of servitude.
With a crack, the older elf appeared in front of Pinky.
"An elf that serves a mudblood is not allowed in this house! This is the ancient and proud family of Black! How dare Pinky come here?!"
"Where is Master Regulus, Kreature? Pinky must see Master Regulus, now."
"Get out! Get! Out!"
"He was tortured, wasn't he? Beaten by Lady Walburga?" Pinky demanded. "He's hurt. Pinky can help."
"He wouldn't have been hurt at all if it hadn't been for that filthy blood traitor! Master Regulus…oh my sweet Young Master Regulus was just being his innocent self. He still believes that imbecile is still worth saving, and in return he was…oh my sweet Master Regulus."
"Kreature, give Pinky the necklace Master Regulus was trying to give Master Sirius."
"No. That vile boy can die. Kreature will not blink an eye. He only causes problems to the noble House of Black and corrupts Master Regulus with ideas and stories of muggles and mudbloods."
"Kreature, give Pinky the necklace. Please." Pinky begged, but the older elf did not budge. His hand grazed his Mistress's wand, and this time he did not hesitate to pull it out and point it to the older elf.
"Give the necklace to Pinky."
Kreatures's eyes widened at the wand pointed at him. Elf magic versus elf magic would have resulted in a stalemate, but an elf with a wand versus simple elf magic was a different story. He put his hand up in surrender but did not immediately go to retrieve the necklace. He bit his fingernails, his eyes flickering upstairs to where Pinky assumed Regulus lay and to Pinky. With a sigh, he snapped his fingers and the necklace appeared in his hand. He stretched out his hand, but he did not release the necklace.
"Master Sirius is to never return home. He will stay away from this family for good. He will not intertwine his fate with any member of this family ever again."
Pinky nodded. Whatever it took to get the necklace.
"Save him." Kreature dropped the necklace into Pinky's awaiting hands. The older elf stared at the spot where Pinky disappeared as he whispered, "so that Master Regulus may live."
When Pinky apparated back into the flat, his mistress was ready and waiting for him. She wore black cargo pants, with black boots. She wore a simple shirt and her red hair was braided down her back.
"Pinky, did you get the necklace?" Hermione stopped lacing her boots when she heard him apparate into the flat. "Pinky, the necklace."
"It is too dangerous." Pinky insisted, hesitating.
"Pinky." She demanded.
The impulse to hand over the necklace reverberated through the elf, but he held on. "Maybe there is another way, Mistress. Perhaps Pinky can return and apparate into Malfoy Manor and take Master Sirius to Mr. Potter's home. Miss does not have to be involved at all."
Hermione shook her head. "You cannot step foot in Potter's house. It's under a Fidelus. You've never served a Potter before; you have no access. You cannot do this."
"Then Pinky can—"
"Pinky!" She stopped him. "Enough. Give me the necklace and my wand. That is an order."
With a trembling hand, Pinky placed the items on the center of her palm with tears in his eyes.
"I will come back." She promised. "I will come back, Pinky."
Pinky looked into his Mistress's deep eyes.
"Pinky promise." She hooked her pinky finger around his and stamped their thumbs together. "I even stamped it."
She gave him a single nod, then grabbed the floo powder and flooed to Malfoy Manor.
Severus paled, "She will come back, right?" He whispered.
Pinky frowned. "Mistress pinky promised Pinky. Mistress always keeps her pinky promises."
…
When the green flames surrounding her subsided, Hermione stepped into Lucius's private bedroom. It was the only room that Lucius had insisted would be empty and untraceable during the Initiation.
"This used to be my room too, you know." Draco mused next to her. "It's the same room all Malfoy children use until they get married and move to a different wing in the house."
"It's ridiculous that you have separate wings in your house," Hermione muttered.
"He's messier than I imagined." He looked around, touching his father's belongings, though he couldn't really touch them in the first place. "I never imagined my perfect father being so… imperfect."
She was about to leave the room when she saw a long strand of red hair on the white sheets of his bed. She looked down at her braided hair and the strand, noticing its similarities.
"That's awkward," Draco whistled.
Hermione rolled her eyes but unintentionally filed the information in the back of her mind.
"Sirius first. Whatever the fuck this is, later." She thought to herself.
She opened the door and slipped out as her animagus form. The swift and quiet fox was nearly silent and good at being invisible to most untrained eyes. She ran through the corridors with swift and practiced ease to where she knew the Initiation would be held. No matter how confident she was, she didn't know the exact situation nor Sirius's exact position to walk through the front doors of the ballroom and execute her plan perfectly so she took the stairs up to the balconies of the ballroom, a perfect vantage point to peer down at the Death Eater meeting.
"Today, my young recruits, it will be the start of a new and important day for those who are truly pure. It has been too long since the Purebloods were silenced, our greatness diminished, our power and rights trampled on by those much less inferior! What is more natural than people like us standing above and ruling those that are less than? It is simply the way of life, yet we are expected to diminish nature's laws, and trample it down? No! It is time for a new government! To break down the current existing framework and improve the conditions for us, the rightful wielders of magic! Revolution!"
"Revolution!" Everyone cried back.
"Revolution!"
"REVOLUTION!"
"Now rise my newest recruits. Join us to a new world."
A group of boys near the center, some of whom Hermione easily recognized, some of whom Hermione didn't, rose from the ground but one at the end remained crouching down.
"Rise."
"No." The voice was quiet yet firm. The body slumped further to the floor, though a violent jerk coursed through the body.
"Lady Black, I believe I was promised an obedient recruit." Voldemort turned to the fuming woman.
Hermione knew that she was risking getting seen, but she careened her neck to get a better view of Sirius on the floor.
She had to stifle a gasp at the sight of Sirius. Starved and beaten, although it's nowhere close to his state post-Azkaban, it was a state Hermione had never wanted to see him in. Even from this distance, she could see the bruises and cuts that coloured his body.
Hermione contemplated firing an Avada from the stand and assassinating Voldemort right there.
"Easy there," 30 year old Harry Potter in his full Auror uniform cautioned. "You can't bank on your aim when the stakes are this high. You're practically trembling with adrenaline. There's a chance that you might miss or that he might have an invisible protective shield around him. If you fail, everyone dies."
"Yeah," Draco whispered. "And while I understand that not everything is about me, I'd still like to be born."
"Mione," Harry gave her a knowing glance. "Your switch is prepared, right?"
"Yes, of course, Harry. My switch is always prepared."
"You will get up, child," Voldemort's demanding voice rose up to the balconies.
"No!" Sirius grunted, clutching his chest from the pain of his Wizarding Oath.
"Get up!"
"Arghhh!" Sirius cried. With trembling legs, he got up, and the pain subsided.
Hermione kept a close eye on Sirius and Voldemort as she silently walked down to the main floor, waiting for the right moment.
Voldemort looked at the line of initiates and mentally tormented them by pointing his wand at them. Sirius was the only one to not flinch. This made Voldemort smile.
"You must be Sirius Black."
No response.
"You will answer when spoken to. Do you understand?"
No response, Sirius's breathing stuttered. He let out a cough which drew blood. Voldemort looked pleased, which gratified Walburga.
"Do you understand, Mr. Black?"
"Gah!" Sirius cried, clutching his stomach in pain. In the end, he nods. "Yes! Yes, so just fucking make it stop."
"You will address me as, my lord."
"Yes…" Sirius's jaw clenched, red-faced and the vein in his forehead nearly popping he stuttered out the words 'my lord' afterward.
"Why do you despise this so much? I am going to give you a world where people like you can rule over those who are lesser than you. Mudbloods, muggles, half-bloods, blood traitors! Scum! Dirt beneath dirt!"
Sirius glared, "They are not dirt…my Lord."
Voldemort sighed dramatically. "I admit that there is a handful that is more useful than the rest. Your dearest girlfriend, for example."
"YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER YOU SICK MOTHERFUCKER!"
"Crucio."
Sirius was no stranger to the torture curse, but the pain was more than he'd ever experienced. It was a whole new world of pain. It even made him wonder if Walburga's curses weren't nearly as painful because a small part of her cared for him.
"STOP!"
Hermione dramatically flew into the room, tears streaking down her face. She ran towards Sirius, only to be stopped by several spells flying in her direction. She ducked and avoided them as she kept running forward.
"Hold your fire!" Voldemort ordered.
"Please, Dark Lord. Have mercy. Please stop." Hermione gushed, not sparing a single glance at Sirius although she could here hear him sputter with silent shock. She approached the man that haunted her dreams, staggering and weeping like a damsel in distress.
"Please. I beg of you."
He was begrudgingly handsome in his current form, enough to turn heads if he were to walk down the street. Reincarnation had not done the good-looking man any justice. His hair was a dark brown, that curled naturally, with deep brown eyes. His skin was unnaturally pale, but even that seemed to suit him just fine, only making his features more pronounced. His nose was strong, but not overly prominent, with thin lips that curled at the sight of her. He was shorter than she imagined him to be, barely reaching 175 cm, but he walked and held himself in a way that made him seem taller, bigger, grander than he actually was.
In this form, Voldemort was painfully human.
"Hermione! What are you doing here? NOO! HERMIONE!" Sirius screamed; she could hear him struggle in the magical bonds that his parents had put him in. He was thrashing and screaming, making it impossible for her to focus.
Voldemort must have thought the same thing because he threw a silencing spell at him and approached her slowly like a snake stalking its prey. He circled her, oddly enough, protecting her from any spells that his Death Eaters could throw at her.
"The infamous Hermione Evans." Voldemort smiled in an unnatural way, as if he never knew the simple emotion of joy, only learned how to mimic it. "My dear girl, you've been avoiding my subtle attempts to contact you, but I wouldn't have put so much effort had I known you would run into my sights like this."
"My lord," Lucius raised his wand threateningly at her. "She has the mouth of a viper. Do not be fooled by her act. How did you get into this property?"
"Please. Please. Not Sirius. I beg of you." Hermione begged the cold dark wizard, completely ignoring Lucius's hostile wand.
"You will answer his question," Voldemort demanded.
"H-house elves are useful creatures. I remember one from Hogwarts that used to wait on Malfoy like a personal servant. I gave her some butterbeer and she apparated me into the bounds."
Voldemort tutted, he gently lifted her chin and wiped the tears off her cheeks. His touch felt almost loving like he was handling something precious.
"You did not have to go through such lengths. Did you not see my attempts to contact you?"
"I saw. You sent Rabastan Lestrange during the Yule Ball, and you've been having people watch me outside when I'm working at Ollivander's."
Voldemort raised his arm and commanded everyone in the room to drop their wands. His eyes were glinting with excitement as he studied her.
Hermione kept her eyes trailing him through teary eyes.
He leaned forward, whispering in her ears, "I don't believe those tears for a single second, so do put them aside. They're getting bothersome."
Just like that, Hermione's grief-stricken face slacked to one of nonchalance.
"Damn, I didn't fool you?" She wiped the remainder of her tears away and sniffled her nose to clear her sinuses. "You are good. How did you know?" She asked, her voice was casual as if she was talking to an old friend. "Most people believe my act without a doubt."
"As you will learn, my dear. I am not most people."
"Even my mom believes me. Even he believed me."
"Parents, lovers, and friends are all easy to fool if you're like you and I my dearest."
They could both hear the mutters of confusion around them, but neither of them paid anyone their attention, keeping their eyes trailed on each other.
"We are the same, you and I." Voldemort told her excitedly. "I knew it from the moment I saw you in the papers. That look in your eyes when you were speaking to those ministry officials in the paper during the Yule Ball. That look you gave James Potter. That look you've had since you barged into this room."
"My lord?" A female voice spoke out from the crowd. It was shaking from barely subdued anger as she called out desperately. "I don't understand. Why is this mudblood here? Shouldn't we kill her?"
"Bellatrix," Hermione's monotone voice greeted the witch before her. "It's been a while."
"I forgot, you were in Hogwarts together, weren't you?" Voldemort placed a hand on her shoulder, making her want to chop her whole arm off, but she kept it there, knowing how it would affect the witch in front of her.
The dark beauty's eyes twitched as she stared at the hand and then the offending shoulder that the hand happened to land on.
"YOU DARE STEP INTO THIS HOUSE! YOU DARE SPEAK TO OUR LORD?!" Bellatrix screeched unable to hold it in, but Voldemort snapped his fingers and she was silenced.
"NO ONE! No one is to touch this girl. Do not disobey me again, Bella. Or else you will be punished."
This made Hermione genuinely smile.
He caught her smile. "You enjoy causing pain, Miss Evans?"
"I enjoy revenge," Hermione answered honestly, as she smirked at Bellatrix's rageful form.
"My Bella has quite the temper, but I suppose you don't need me to tell you that. You were in Hogwarts with her, no?"
"I was." She nodded. "She was a downright bitch."
He laughed, it was surprisingly light and airy. It must be his genuine laugh, not his evil crazed laugh, but the one he made when people actually managed to tickle his humour. Everyone around them glanced at each other before laughing along with him.
"I did not expect you to come. You've ignored my invitations thus far. How can I trust that your intentions are pure? Or perhaps," He glanced at Sirius, writhing on the floor as he shouted silently. "You really are here for him?"
"Trust is earned." Hermione reasoned. "I'm not a Gryffindor like him, but I can guarantee that I'm more capable than half your Death Eaters combined." She formed her lips into a smirk. "And you know it. You're a talented man. Your trained eyes can see someone who is also talented like yourself. It's why you've been trying to recruit me ever since the Dueling Championships."
"Yes," he pulled out his wand and poked her. A formidable invisible shield bounced the force away, revealing itself to everyone. "Impressive, but not irreplaceable."
"Just a small form of insurance. Security. I did run into a room full of muggleborn-hating Death Eaters." She let out a small chuckle like her actions had been a foolish child's game, rather than a life-compromising decision. "I suppose everyone is replaceable in your eyes, my lord. Isn't it our jobs to make ourselves appear less so?"
"What does your dear boyfriend think about you so willing to join my forces, I wonder?" Voldemort stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders to turn her to face Sirius for the first time since entering the room. Bound, magically gagged, and beaten, Sirius sat on the floor with disbelief and betrayal written on his face. Her emotional switch threatened to flicker off, flooding her with the true grief, horror, and fear that she was currently holding back.
"Finite."
"HERMIONE! What are you doing here? Why are you here? It's because of me, isn't it? I'm fine! Get out of here! Save yourself! Please my love, get out." He jerked his head towards the exit.
She could feel Voldemort's cruel smile as his breath caressed the nape of her neck.
"Ugh," Hermione turned away from him, partly because she was playing a part, but also because she couldn't see him like this. She rolled her eyes. "So much more training is needed."
"Training?"
She smirked, "Of course my lord, Blacks are a rather beautiful family, don't you think? You know from experience, don't you, my Lord? That they are a waste by simply being your soldiers. They can be much more, such as a servant who obediently serves her master…" she whispered.
"Oh?" Voldemort's eyes turned to Sirius on the floor. "So he's your…?"
She stepped forward and crouched next to Sirius. She wiped the tear away from his cheeks and kept her hand against his sunken cheeks. He subconsciously leaned into her touch. She could hear Walburga Black growl lowly, but she kept her hands and wand to herself, following the orders of her lord.
"What's going on?" He whispered to her. She leaned in like she was about to tell him her secret. "Why are you here? What are you doing?"
She looked back at him with dead eyes.
"Hermione?" His voice broke at the end.
"He is mine." And I am yours.
Her skin crawled as she corrupted the precious words they'd said to each other months ago, but what hurt even worse was Sirius's devastation. She could see his heartbreaking, which in turn broke her own heart as well. How many times could a heart break before the person died, she wondered. She felt despicable, her emotional switch flickering off for the pure hatred she felt for herself, for being the reason that expression was on his face.
She desperately wanted to tell him that she was here to save him, that being near these people made her disgusted and went against the very fabric of her being, but that was not the show she needed to present.
"Stop being emotional. You've done worse things. Turn off that side of yourself and focus." Hermione Granger stood next to her now. The presence that always burdened her to no end suddenly felt like strength. The bloody, angry, and mad witch next to her had gone through the worst things in life and had gotten away from it alive, and with a second chance.
"You are Hermione Granger and I am Hermione Evans." She told her. "We are one and the same."
Just like that, her emotional switch turned on once more, and within seconds her mind had compartmentalized her thoughts and emotions into a deep corner of her mind. Intangible and incomprehensible, she became a metal slate, giving nothing away.
When she turned back, she saw the carnal look in Voldemort's eyes. It was like she'd shown a starving man a feast. She felt his presence prodding around her mind, ripping her walls apart. It was Legilimency like she'd never experienced. She couldn't push him out, no matter how hard she tried, so instead, she redirected him. She showed him how she could be of use to him.
The Obscurus.
Images of her childhood, the black tar-like parasite that inhabited within her flashed through her mind, showing the intruder tidbits of her life. She showcased the destruction she's caused, the rage it filled her with, and the bloodlust that coursed through her every time it came out.
He was prodding less as she willingly showed him the memories that he so desperately wished to see. She cut the memories off, just as it started to get interesting.
Voldemort stood before her with shock and wonder on his face. She was a weapon of mass destruction and an Occlumens, all achieved when she was just a child. She would be his perfect soldier.
She gave him her most arrogant smirk, then pushed it into his mind. He didn't even try to stop her. The things she saw in there chilled her to the core. The rage, the bloodlust, the desire to kill and dominate swirled around her, unable to control itself. It was like a cauldron about to boil over.
Most people with such strong urges and emotions would go on a killing rampage, yet this monster was able to stand amongst people and give big speeches on the new world. Terrifyingly, she admired his level of self-control.
"Are you sure you don't need a girl like me?" she asked in his mind. "I won't just make you a mere lord, I can make you a god."
…