Title: Revenge is Best Served Cold… Dead Cold
The Potter Complex
Season: 1
Round: 3
Team: The Two Queens; Kmc223 & Queen Nitiqret
Prompt: Divination - Write a story about a time travel au.
Possible triggures: crying, death
Squicks: None
AU's: none
Cowriter: kmc223/Queen Nitiqret
Word count: 7067
Betas: Ikuni, Dora, Bea
A/N This story was written for round 3 of the Potter Complex competition and the challenge was to write the story together.
2nd May 2000:
Hermione turned around and aimed her wand at the figure in front of her.
"What do you want from me? I've done nothing to you," Hermione said.
The figure let out a horrifying, heart-stopping cackle. "Oh, I know, but it's so fun seeing people like you suffer."
"What am I then?" Hermione nervously asked.
"A Mudblood…" the figure responded. Hermione saw red.
"What. Did. You. Say?" Hermione said through gritted teeth.
"You… thieving Mudblood," they snarled. "You and your whole family are dirty Mudbloods and Muggle scum. You will never be one of us."
Hermione looked at the watch on her wrist. "03:27," she muttered to herself.
"What did you say, Mudblood?" said the figure, getting more and more irritated.
"I said…" Hermione responded. "Stupe–"
"Avada Kedavra!" shouted the figure, interrupting Hermione. The two beams of light hit each other as a loud bang reverberated around the room. Hermione was sent flying backwards into a wall. An intense pain filled her body as she crumpled to the floor. With one last breath, she tried to stand but her legs refused to work.
"03:27," she said, her fingers fumbling with her watch as it all went… black.
30th April 2000:
Hermione slammed into the ground, hard, and she groaned as she struggled to sit up. Her head felt groggy from the time travel and the recent curse. Looking about, Hermione was able to make out that she was in Diagon Alley. She checked her watch; 22:52. She called out to a passing stranger, "Excuse me," she said. "What is the date today?"
"Today is the 30th of April," the stranger replied.
"Thank you!" Hermione called after them as they walked off.
The watch had taken her to two days before the incident. She didn't have much time. She had to put a stop to Bellatrix Lestrange's spirit. She could only imagine the horrors that would happen if she didn't. Hermione was very thankful for her time-turning watch. An ingenious invention of her own, even if she did say so herself, made from a time-turner slipped from the Department of Mysteries in her fifth year and an old watch. It had taken her years to figure out how to combine them, but it was proving worth that struggle.
The problem was that she had no idea where to begin. She had no idea who would have released Bellatrix from the spirit world. Or why. She couldn't think of anyone living who would want to release Bellatrix Lestrange into the world of the living. She wasn't even one hundred percent certain that the spirit she had encountered was Bellatrix. It was just a hunch, but her hunches were usually correct. She could only hope they were correct this time.
Hermione composed herself and stood up. She really wasn't sure where to go. So she just walked. And walked. And walked, letting her legs lead the way. Eventually, she stopped in front of Ollivanders. Memories of shopping here for the first time with her parents filled her head and warmed her heart. But she wasn't here to reminisce about her childhood. She was here for one thing and one thing only. Information.
The textbooks she had read about Beltane and the rituals that ancient wizards and witches performed had never mentioned where. Only why and the potential things that could go wrong. What she needed was someone who would know where she needed to go. Her first thought was Dumbledore. He would undoubtedly know where she needed to go. No doubt he would've known how to actually stop it too, but Dumbledore was dead. So, who else knew a lot about magic?
She glanced up at the shop front. Then it struck her. Ollivander! He had generations and generations of knowledge passed down through the family about magical lore and how to harness the magic within them by channelling it through wands.
The door creaked open, revealing the dark and dusty shop inside. Hermione had forgotten how odd it looked. She was surprised to see the smiling old man sitting at the counter at this late hour.
"Oh, hello, Miss Granger!" he exclaimed. Hermione looked at him, perplexed.
"How do you remember who I am?" she asked.
Ollivander looked at her and said, "Well, Miss Granger, I remember everyone who ever comes in here. I even remember what wand they bought. It feels like only yesterday since you were here buying your first wand. If I remember correctly– which I always do– you have a… Vinewood and dragon heartstring wand? That's ten and three-quarter inches long?" A look of shock passed across Hermione's face. She didn't know why she was shocked. His memory was the reason she was here. But to be fair, if someone can remember everyone who's ever bought from their shop and what they bought… it's pretty shocking.
"Mr Ollivander," Hermione began tentatively. "I just wanted to ask you if you knew anything about Beltane?"
"Hmm…curious, very curious," Mr Ollivander replied, his pale bulging eyes almost seemed to be popping out of his face. "Beltane is a most curious time indeed. Indeed, the legends tell us that the first known use of a wand as an instrument to channel magic was at the Ritual of the Spirits during Beltane."
"Yes," Hermione said excitedly. "I've read about those rituals. The Ancients used to summon their ancestors to make predictions for the coming year. Of course, what a dead spirit could actually know about the future is questionable," Hermione added, sceptically.
"Yes, it's an immensely complex and intricate piece of magic, but very dangerous if performed incorrectly," Mr Ollivander said in barely more than a whisper.
"I've read that if the summoner was filled with regret and looked back as the veil between the worlds closed, then they could risk releasing the spirit into the world of the living," Hermione added.
"Yes, yes," Mr Ollivander replied eagerly. He looked much too enthusiastic about this for Hermione's comfort. "Particularly, if the spirit itself felt it had unfinished business."
"Right," Hermione said, feeling extremely uncomfortable now. "What I was wondering was where did this ritual take place? I could never seem to find anything about the location in any of the books at Hogwarts."
"Well, that's not surprising. The rituals of Beltane were outlawed around about the time of the Statue of Secrecy," Mr Oliivander said slowly. "The spirits that could be released were often vengeful and rarely distinguished between Wizard or Muggle. Keeping it a secret from the Muggles would be difficult, so knowledge of the location was wiped from the history books and terrible punishments were handed out to anyone caught performing the ritual."
"So, there's no way to find out where the ritual used to take place?" Hermione asked, crestfallen.
"The knowledge was not lost to all. Some lore survived. But why do you want to know?" Mr Ollivander fixed his misty eyes on Hermione. She suppressed a shiver.
"Because I have reason to believe that someone is about to unleash a vengeful spirit, whether on purpose or accidentally, I do not know. But they must be stopped. I cannot stop them if I don't know where to look," Hermione said quickly, throwing caution to the wind.
Mr Ollivander stared at Hermione for several minutes before he seemed content and nodded his head.
"Ironically," he started, "the ritual site is guarded by Muggles. Unable to enact the rituals themselves they visit it in their hundreds, sometimes thousands every day. To them, it is a heritage site."
"Where?" Hermione asked urgently.
"Stonehenge," Mr Ollivander said with a slight smile.
Hermione clapped her hand to her forehead. Of course! How could she not have realised?
"Is there anything else I would need to know?" she asked.
"Tell me, Miss Granger," Ollivander asked. "Who is this vengeful spirit you speak of?"
Hermione paused, not knowing whether or not to tell him. It was like two voices having an argument in her mind. 'He's trustworthy. What's the worst that could happen?' one would say while the other was shouting, 'Don't tell him!' In the end, Hermione took a deep breath, attempting to clear her mind. 'Okay I'll tell him,' she thought. 'Nothing bad will happen. Will it?'
"Hello?" Olivander said as he waved his hand in front of her face. "Are you there?"
Hermione looked up. "Oh, yes I'm here, I just zoned out. Sorry," she responded.
"So, whose spirit do you speak of?" he asked again.
"Bellatrix. Bellatrix Lestrange,'' she said and everything went silent. Ollivander's face changed to a grim expression.
"Do you know what wand Bellatrix had?" he asked her.
"No, no I don't," Hermione said confused.
"Bellatrix," he began, "had a walnut wand. With... a dragon heartstring core. This heartstring is from the same dragon as yours."
"Oh!" Hermione responded. "I didn't know about the core."
"It shouldn't cause you many problems but I just wanted to warn you," Ollivander said in a kind tone.
"But she would have no wand," Hermione said. "I took it from her during the war."
"Indeed, but Bellatrix had a fondness for that wand. So, I suspect that it would be her wand in the spirit world."
"Thank you, Mr Ollivander!" Hermione said.
"Good luck, Miss Granger," he replied.
Hermione left Ollivander's shop with her head reeling from the information that Ollivander had divulged to her. She and Bellatrix shared a wand core. It certainly explained a few things, starting with why Bellatrix's Killing Curse hadn't killed her. She cast her mind back to what Harry had told her about duelling Voldemort in the graveyard and how their spells had collided. That might come in useful, especially if Bellatrix didn't know about the shared core.
Hermione checked her watch. It was now 23:30. According to all the books she had ever read on the ritual of Beltane, the best time to summon the spirits of the dead was during the so-called witching hour, between three and four AM. So she had around three and a half hours to make a plan to stop– whoever it was– from releasing Bellatrix upon the world. Assuming, of course, that they knew the best time for this chit-chat was during the witching hour. She cast her mind around trying to remember times. 03:27 on the 2nd of May was when she went back in time but when did she first encounter the spirit? Think, Hermione! Think!
Hermione had walked into the Leaky Cauldron earlier that day and sat at the table furthest away from the door. After sitting for a while a waitress approached her.
"Hello, what would you like?" asked the waitress politely.
"I'll have the…" she paused for a moment. "I'll have the steak pie and a butterbeer, please."
The waitress had quickly written it down and walked off. After about ten minutes her food had arrived. Certainly what she'd needed after the day she had. She'd begun to eat her lunch when it was suddenly launched across the room and a painting that hung on the wall behind her nearly fell on her head, only missing her by a mere inch. But that wasn't the first encounter.
Before lunch, Hermione had walked into work as usual and was just about to sit at her desk when a chandelier came crashing down onto her desk, only narrowly missing her.
Then there were the gates of the lifts in the Ministry that were mysteriously fused shut when she arrived at work that morning. Not to mention the random fire in her kitchen that morning. And her kitchen door and windows that wouldn't open until she had nearly choked on the fumes. That was definitely the first encounter she could remember.
But all that told her was that the spirit was unleashed sometime between midnight and seven-thirty in the morning. She gave a sigh. That was still seven hours during which someone had performed the ritual. She would need to go there now and wait. Perhaps, the person responsible thought midnight on Beltane was the best time. She only had twenty-five minutes until then to get there, find a place to stake out from and come up with a plan. A plan which right now, was completely non-existent. Great! This is going to be a piece of cake.
'How am I going to get there?' she thought. Hermione had planned out everything but the simplest thing. Travel. Many possibilities filled her mind. The Knight Bus. The Weasley's flying car… 'Oh, how could I have been so stupid? I can just apparate! Are you a witch or not?' Hermione berated herself. She took the test years ago. And of course, she passed it on her first try.
Thinking clearly of the 3 D's destination, determination and deliberation. 'Okay I'm going to Stonehenge,' she thought. 'I can do this!' Hermione then turned on the spot, squeezing into the crushing darkness of Apparition.
Hermione appeared at Stonehenge with a small pop. It was dark, and the huge stones loomed up in front of her in the darkness; reduced to mere dark silhouettes against the inky black sky, scattered with stars. The grass underfoot was damp with dew and a light mist hung over the place, making it look very eerie.
No wonder it was the perfect place to break the veil between the two worlds.
There wasn't really anywhere she could hide. The land all around was open and flat with no buildings. Some of the stones were still standing, while some lay on the ground. Hermione could just make out a spot where a large stone lay on the ground in front of one of the stones that still stood, with another smaller standing stone in front of it. She carefully made her way over and squeezed herself behind the smaller stone, resting her back against the large one. It was very uncomfortable to be wedged in the small space, not to mention that the ground was cold and damp, but she didn't want to be seen by whoever was going to turn up.
A horrible thought struck her, as horrible thoughts are wont to do when you are worried. Her whole plan in coming here was to stop this unknown person from releasing Bellatrix's spirit. But if she did that, what would happen to her? She was only here because she had gone back in time. If she stopped Bellatrix from being unleashed, would she have gone back in time? Would there then be two Hermiones in the world? Would she cease to exist because she no longer went back in time but was no longer in the future? She had been warned in her third year when she had the Ministry Time-Turner about the terrible things that had happened to wizards who had messed with time. Some of them had ceased to exist or their families were made to pay the price for their loved ones' wrongdoings.
Hermione looked at her watch and it showed that the time was 02:00. 'Two AM already?' she thought. Whoever was coming would be coming soon. Hermione braced herself in her little gap wondering what horrors were about to unfold. Could it be Voldemort? No, no he had died in the battle. Could it be me? Surely it can't be me because I'd have some sort of memory, wouldn't I? She thought of their third year when Harry had seen himself cast a Patronus Charm while trying to protect Sirius, but he had no memory of doing that before they went back in time. These possible scenarios kept coming into her mind, making her increasingly worried. But she had her time-turner so if something bad were to happen she could keep trying. But was that really what she wanted to spend her time doing?
Hermione crouched down when she heard footsteps in the distance. It had to be the person trying to release Bellatrix back into the world. Hermione crawled to the side of the stone and poked her head around it. She had to try not to gasp when she saw who it was. In front of her was Narcissa Malfoy. The Narcissa Malfoy. What was she doing here? But there was no time for questions. Hermione needed to stop her.
Hermione crept towards another stone, this one was smaller than the rest but it aligned better with Narcissa than the others. Something looked off about Narcissa though. Her hair was messy and she was wearing a dark full-length cloak. She looked at her watch and it showed that it was 03:00. Witching hour. Of course, she chose this time to bring Bellatrix back. No one would dare to be out at this time. Well, apart from Hermione and her.
Narcissa started saying a chant that Hermione couldn't make out. To her, it sounded like gibberish. She sat and waited for the perfect moment. Anticipating it would happen soon, Hermione reached into her pocket and grabbed her wand. However as she was bringing the wand out of her pocket, it slipped out of her hand and fell onto the grass. This made a small noise. Just a slight rustle. Hermione held her breath hoping Narcissa hadn't heard it. She scrambled to pick up her wand and put it away in her pocket when a green light surrounded her. Hermione felt weak and lost her balance, her body lurching forward uncontrollably. With a sudden thud, she hit the ground. She lay there stunned before slowly a wave of tiredness engulfed her and she went to… sleep.
1st May:
Hermione awoke with a jolt. 'How could I let this happen?' she thought. A single tear escaped the corner of her eye, tracing a path down her cheek, carrying with it Hermione's unspoken emotions.. She quickly wiped it off. Hermione's eyes darted around, her gaze restless and probing. Eventually her gaze came across something odd. She felt a sense of determination to find out what it was as she pushed herself up from the ground. With a steady hand on her knee for support, she straightened her back, lifted her head high and stood tall, ready to find out what it was. Hermione reached into her pocket for her wand. Slowly and carefully Hermione stepped out from behind the rock.
She lit her wand and slowly made her way towards the centre of the circle of stones. She gasped as the light from her wand fell on the bundle of robes. Lying crumpled on the ground was– Narcissa Malfoy. Hermione dropped to her knees in front of her. Narcissa looked paler than normal.
"Enervate," Hermione muttered. Narcissa groaned and stirred, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She looked surprised to see Hermione there. "What happened?" Hermione asked her.
"I don't really think that's any of your business," Narcissa said coldly.
"Look, I don't have time for this," Hermione said quickly. "I know you were performing the ancient ritual of Beltane. And I know it was Bellatrix that you were summoning. But I need to know how you ended up unconscious? Were you performing the ritual with the intention of unleashing her? Did it go wrong?"
"Unleashing her?" Narcissa looked shocked that Hermione knew so much about what she was doing here. "That's not what the ritual is for. Why are you here? How did you know?"
"I don't have time to explain all that now," Hermione said. "The ritual of Beltane has been outlawed since the Statue of Secrecy and now Bellatrix has been unleashed in this world and… well, let's just say it's not to just visit her favourite places."
"I… I don't understand. How? The ritual is to commune with your ancestors for advice. I just wanted to talk to her… to understand…"
"Did you look back?" Hermione demanded.
"What?" Narcissa looked confused.
"When your time talking to her was up. Did you look back at her as you were leaving?"
"I… yes… yes, I think so."
"That's how the spirit can be released. The veil is at its weakest. Looking back allowed her to follow you into this world," Hermione said, standing up and offering a hand to Narcissa. "Do you want help Apparating somewhere?"
Narcissa shook her head. "I don't need help Apparating," she snapped.
"Sorry, you just seemed a little groggy. Remember the 3 D's Destination, Determination and Deliberation," Hermione recited, offering Narcissa her hand again.
Narcissa took the hand Hermione offered and got to her feet.
"Merlin, you actually do talk like that," Narcissa muttered. "I always thought Draco exaggerated it."
"Where are you going to go?" Hermione asked.
"The only place I'm going is to find my sister and figure out how to return her to the spirit world."
"Why do you think I was here?" Hermione asked.
"I didn't really think of that," Narcissa replied. "You shouldn't have come, Miss Granger. Imagine what could've happened. You nearly died!"
"You were the one who did that!" Hermione retorted.
"Well, I heard a noise. I couldn't risk anything. I thought you were a spy of some sort. Just be glad my Avada Kedavra didn't work and barely missed you," she said.
"We've gone off subject, Mrs Malfoy," Hermione said brusquely. "Where would Bellatrix go?"
"I… I don't know." Narcissa looked flustered.
"Think, Mrs Malfoy. Think!" Hermione snapped.
Narcissa closed her eyes tight, evidently imagining where Bellatrix might go.
"I've got it!" Narcissa said. "She was furious when I spoke to her. Furious that Voldemort had been defeated and that Mudbloods were once again being given a place in our world. She blames you. But you're here with me–"
Hermione clapped a hand to her head again. She really was being extremely foolish tonight. She was going to blame it on a lack of sleep and almost being killed twice.
"She's at my house," Hermione told Narcissa. "She's gone there to torment me."
"I don't understand," Narcissa said.
"I've come back in time to try and stop her," Hermione began.
"How–"
"There's no time for how," Hermione interrupted. Narcissa closed her mouth, aptly chastised. "But she nearly killed me. It's how I knew she'd been released. It's how I knew where to come tonight. But I cannot be seen by myself, so that's going to make things difficult. We might have to confront Bellatrix after she tries to kill me again and I go back in time," Hermione pondered. "But the thing is, I have no idea how we will send her back."
There was silence for several minutes. Before Hermione voiced what was bothering her.
"Mrs Malfoy?"
"Yes?"
"If this ritual has been outlawed since the Statue of Secrecy and any books on the subject only describe what the ritual is for and what can go wrong, then how did you know how to perform it?" Hermione asked, looking at Narcissa and suspecting that she already knew the answer.
Hermione walked in and took a deep breath. This was her favourite smell. The smell of knowledge and books! Hermione found herself in the library at Malfoy Manor. She was very glad it was the library and not the drawing room. She wasn't sure if she could handle being back in that room after everything that had happened there all those years ago. Narcissa placed a stack of books on the table and returned to the shelves.
"How many books do you have on the subject, Mrs Malfoy?" Hermione goggled as Narcissa placed yet another stack of books on the table.
"This is the last of them," Narcissa said with a weary sigh. "I'd say there are about fifty or sixty of them but I think we should start with these ones." Narcissa indicted the first stack of books. "They contained the most information on the ritual so they will probably be the most helpful."
"Right," Hermione said, sitting down at the table. "We'd best get started then. We've got less than twenty-four hours to figure out how to send her back."
"Are you sure you're okay being here?" Narcissa asked tentatively, taking a seat and pulling a large heavy book towards herself.
"It's fine, Mrs Malfoy!" Hermione insisted a little too quickly to be plausible. "Really, it's fine," she said with a sigh looking up from the book. "As long as we don't go near your drawing room."
"Also," Narcissa said, "don't worry about calling me Mrs Malfoy. I insist you call me Narcissa."
"If I'm calling you Narcissa," Hermione replied, "please, call me Hermione."
Narcissa nodded and left it at that. The two women may have put aside their differences to deal with the situation at hand but having a cosy heart-to-heart and discussing the trauma inflicted by Narcissa's sister in this very house was off-limits.
Several hours later Hermione lifted her head up from where it had been resting on her arms. Her hair was sticking up all over the place and a big yawn nearly split her head in two.
"Got any coffee?" she asked croakily. A bleary-eyed Narcissa looked up from the book she was skimming through.
"No, I don't drink coffee," Narcissa replied. "I really don't like it."
"How about tea?" Hermione enquired.
"Nobby?" Narcissa called and a house-elf appeared at her elbow with a loud crack and bowed low.
"You called, Mistress?" the house-elf squeaked.
"Bring us a large pot of tea and two teacups to go with it. We've still got a lot of work to do," Narcissa ordered.
Hermione pursed her lips at the order that was given without so much as a please or a thank you. The house-elf disappeared and then reappeared moments later with a large pot of tea and two cups. The house-elf placed them on the table, bowed low again and disappeared. Narcissa poured out two large cups of tea and handed one to Hermione. She took a big gulp as she turned the page of the book she was reading before she nearly choked on her tea.
"I think I've found something," Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.
Narcissa looked up abruptly. "What? What have you found?"
"I don't think we can do it." Hermione sighed.
"For goodness sake just say it," Narcissa snapped.
"It says something about a unicorn horn…" Hermione said in a perplexed tone. "Wait, I'm going to keep reading to see if there's anything else."
Hermione kept reading.
To returneth a spirit to the oth'r w'rld th're is one key objecteth requir'd. The first grise is to wend to a magical f'rest, one wh're bowtruckles dwelleth and locateth a young golden unic'rn. Those gents art rare and elusive creatures and shall not beest easy to locateth. The unic'rn wilt not beest hath killed, but befriend'd using the purest of white sugar. Then utt'r this incantation: o generosa creatura, te oro ut mihi cedat cornu tuum. If 't be true the creatures trusteth hast been did gain t shouldst yield up its h'rn to thee.
Next a magical carpent'r of the finest w'rk might not but beest did consult and this plea utt'red: placet auxilium mihi sculpere hoc cornu. The fee f'r this s'rvice is most high 'round a thousand galleons f'r the prop'r carving of the h'rn is the most sore of w'rk.
With the h'rn did obtain the enchant'r who is't releas'd the spirit might not but standeth in the spirits presence and thrice bloweth the h'rn to returneth the spirit to the oth'r w'rld.
Hermione let out a sigh. How were they going to get a unicorn horn in less than 24 hours? Not to mention the money, a magical carpenter and they'd have to locate Bellatrix. This was looking impossible.
Hermione passed the book to Narcissa hoping she could come up with some sort of plan. Wearily, Hermione rubbed her face but when she looked back up at Narcissa she saw that she was smiling
"Why are you smiling?" Hermione gawped.
"Oh, no reason darling. It's just there's no need to do any of this as we already have a horn." Narcissa looked at Hermione and saw her despair turn to joy. "The only problem is… it's in the… drawing room."
Hermione took a deep breath as all her previous memories came flooding back. "Are you sure it's in the drawing room, Narcissa?"
"Yes, Hermione. And you'll need to come in with me. It will be a two-person job." Narcissa looked down at the book Hermione had handed her.
"Okay fine. I'll do it," Hermione responded as a silent tear cascaded down her cheek.
Narcissa held out her hand to Hermione, a soft smile appearing on her face. "Don't worry, Hermione, I'll be right by your side."
Hermione was shocked. Narcissa was offering her hand? It was rare for her to even smile let alone offer her hand! Hermione couldn't tell whether it was sincere or not but she didn't care. She was just glad that she had someone by her side, even if it was the sister of the person that caused that trauma.
Hermione accepted her hand and together they walked through the manor. Hermione had forgotten how big it was. But to be fair, the last time she was here it wasn't a pleasant experience, to say the least…
They eventually stopped outside a set of black and gold doors. Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
"Nothing bad is going to happen. Nothing bad is going to happen," she said to herself quietly.
Narcissa turned to Hermione and gave her a look that clearly asked 'Are you ready?' Hermione responded with a small nod.
Together they both reached out and pushed open the doors which creaked noisily.
Narcissa stepped into the Drawing Room and Hermione followed a little more reluctantly. Her heart was beating so loudly in her chest that Hermione felt certain Narcissa must be able to hear it.
"The horn is up there," Narcissa said quietly, pointing up to the top shelf of a display cabinet.
"So, how is this a two-person job?" Hermione asked. "Can't we just open the cabinet and lift it out."
"Lucius has it under many enchantments. It's a family heirloom, passed down through the generations. You'll have to lift it out once I've lifted the enchantments and replace it with something of a similar weight. I can only freeze the enchantment for five seconds. I cannot override the Malfoy family enchantments because I'm not a Malfoy by blood."
"Can't you just ask Lucius?" Hermione asked.
"No," Narcissa said. "Because Lucius has no idea that I was going to perform the ritual and I'm in no mood for us to have another argument over my sister."
"So, ask Draco then?"
"I will not involve my son in anything to do with my sister! She's caused enough damage." Narcissa took a deep breath. "We can do this ourselves." She waved her wand and a replica of the horn appeared which she handed to Hermione. "When I tell you to, replace the real one with this."
Hermione nodded and climbed the ladder, she really hated heights. She might only be a couple of feet off the ground but she still felt dizzy if she looked down. Narcissa was muttering incantations under her breath. Hermione could feel the power of the protective enchantments breaking down.
"Now!" Narcissa yelled.
Quick as a flash, Hermione reached out and removed the little Golden Horn from its place on the shelf and replaced it with the replica. No sooner had Hermione withdrawn her now empty hand from the cabinet when she felt the immense power of the protective enchantments reactivating.
"What happens to someone who tries to remove something while the protective enchantments are still in place?" Hermione asked as she climbed down the ladder and stood beside Narcissa.
"You don't want to know," Narcissa said darkly.
Hermione checked her watch. It was now four in the afternoon. What Hermione really wanted was a nap, but she couldn't go back to her house in case she slept too long and her other self came back after work.
"Why don't we get some sleep?" Narcissa said as though she had read Hermione's mind. "I don't think confronting my crazy sister's spirit while tired is the best idea."
"Agreed," Hermione said. "I'll see if I can go to Harry's for a nap while he's at work."
"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, instead," Narcissa offered.
2nd May 00:01:
After a long well-deserved nap, Hermione awoke to the sound of the alarm she had set. She checked her watch 00:01. Already midnight! Shoot! She had less than three and a half hours to fix this.
Hermione made her way to Narcissa's room and knocked.
"Hello, Narcissa, are you awake?" she called but there was no response. After continuously knocking for about two minutes, Hermione opened the door but was shocked to see that the room was empty.
Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder and spun around. It was just Narcissa.
"What were you doing?" Hermione asked.
"I wanted a cup of tea. I was going to wake up a house-elf but I decided it would just be easier to get it myself."
Hermione was surprised. She had never imagined that a Malfoy would do anything for themselves that they could make a house-elf do.
"I'm not really a tea person myself," Hermione responded, "but how many sugars do you have?"
"None, no milk either," Narcissa said, going along with Hermione's small talk.
"Ooh, so you have it black?" Hermione asked.
"Okay I see what you're doing, Hermione. And I don't like it," Narcissa said through pursed lips.
And with that Narcissa walked into her room and sat on her bed. Carefully she lifted the teacup to her mouth and took a sip. Once she placed the tea back down she gestured for Hermione to sit with her.
After about half an hour of drinking a lot of tea, Hermione checked her watch.
"Narcissa," Hermione said, "it's already one AM. We should probably get moving soon."
"One already?" Narcissa asked. "Do you still have the unicorn horn?"
"No… I've lost it," Hermione deadpanned.
Narcissa shot Hermione a death glare. "Don't joke with me like that, Hermione," Narcissa sternly replied while Hermione laughed and pulled the unicorn horn out of her pocket.
"We need to be focused if we want to succeed," Narcissa said.
"You're right of course, sorry," Hermione said. "Have you got a bag?"
"There should be one in the wardrobe," Narcissa said.
Hermione walked over to the wardrobe and looked inside. She grabbed the small, grey satchel and stowed the unicorn horn inside. It would be easier to keep a hold of now. Hermione walked back over to Narcissa, held her hand and Narcissa pulled them into the crushing blackness of Apparition.
With a quiet crack, they both opened their eyes and saw that they were now on the outskirts of the town where Hermione stayed. Once both of their eyes had adjusted, she led the way through the streets towards her house with Narcissa following along behind. Neither woman said anything, both were too focused on the vague plan they had formulated. Hermione kept checking her watch anxiously even though she knew they still had plenty of time. It was only a quarter past one; it would still be a couple of hours before her past self would be rudely woken from her slumber by Bellatrix's spirit but Hermione wanted to make sure they were hidden in wait long before that.
Hermione put a finger to her lips to indicate to Narcissa to keep quiet as they walked up to the front door of her house. It was an unnecessary gesture as neither woman was talking but Hermione was feeling extremely nervous. Quietly, Hermione pulled out her keys and unlocked her door, opening it slowly so it wouldn't wake up the other Hermione. The last thing they needed was the unnecessary complication of Hermione killing her own self because they startled her. Hermione stifled a laugh as she realised that she was glad she was doing this with Narcissa and not Neville, who could be so incredibly clumsy. They tiptoed into the hallway and Hermione quietly shut the door behind them before indicating to Narcissa to follow her through to the open-plan living room, dining room and kitchen.
Pressing her finger to her lips once more, Hermione pointed to the cupboard under the stairs. The two women squeezed themselves into the small space and Hermione closed the door with a wave of her wand.
Once again Hermione found herself squeezed into a small cramped space. 'Why does this keep happening?' she thought. At least this time there was no damp grass underneath but it was dark and stuffy and very cramped with the two of them in there. Hermione found herself thinking of all the years Harry had spent living in the cupboard under the stairs at his aunt and uncle's. Sometimes locked in there for days on end as punishment, only allowed out for the bathroom twice a day. Her heart ached for her friend, who had endured sixteen miserable years living with his relatives and yet had still turned out to be the nicest, most kind-hearted and caring person she had ever known. Oh, how she missed her best friend, but now was not the time for reminiscing.
A sharp elbow in her ribs from Narcissa brought her out of her reverie. She could feel rather than hear the presence of Bellatrix's spirit. Hermione glanced at her watch, the numbers on her watch the only source of light in the dark cupboard, 3:02. Hermione, or rather other Hermione, hadn't been woken up by Bellatrix until 3:17. Hermione shuddered at the thought that this evil, malicious spirit had been lurking in her house for a quarter of an hour before she'd become aware of it.
The two women strained their ears to listen to the sounds outside the cupboard. They held their breath as they sensed the malevolent spirit pass close to their hiding spot. What would happen if the spirit could sense their presence? After what seemed like hours the spirit moved towards the kitchen where it started to pull cups and plates out of the cupboard and smash them on the floor. This was what they had been waiting for. Upstairs they could hear the other Hermione rousing herself from her bed, then the creak of the stairs as she cautiously made her way downstairs to investigate the noise with, as cupboard Hermione knew, her wand held aloft.
"Hello?" Hermione heard herself call out from the other side of the door. "Who's there?"
They heard the spirit's cackling laughter and Hermione knew Bellatrix had just whooshed by her, causing her other self to turn around on the spot, trying to locate the source before finally noticing the hazy, slightly transparent figure and aiming her wand at the figure in front of her.
"What do you want from me? I've done nothing to you," the other Hermione said.
The figure let out a horrifying, heart-stopping cackle. "Oh, I know, but it's so fun seeing people like you suffer."
"What am I then?" the other Hermione nervously asked.
"A Mudblood…" the figure responded.
"What. Did. You. Say?" the other Hermione said through gritted teeth.
"You…thieving Mudblood," the spirit snarled. "You and your whole family are dirty Mudbloods and Muggle scum. You will never be one of us".
The other Hermione looked at the watch on her wrist. "03:27," she muttered to herself.
"What did you say, Mudblood?" said the figure, getting more and more irritated.
"I said…" the other Hermione responded. "Stupe–"
"Avada Kedavra!" shouted the figure, interrupting the other Hermione. The two beams of light hit each other as a loud bang reverberated around the room. Hermione watched as her other self was sent flying backwards into a wall, watching as she crumpled to the floor. With one last breath, she tried to stand but her legs refused to work.
"03:27," her other self said, her fingers fumbling with her watch.
Hermione watched her other self disappear. She remembered how scary it was. But she knew that she had to stop Bellatrix. So suddenly filled with determination, Hermione burst out from the cupboard leaving Narcissa and the satchel with the horn.
When Hermione came face to face with the spirit she had only just realised how distorted she looked. Bellatrix's usual messy hair was now even messier! Which Hermione didn't even know was possible.
"Who are you?" the spirit asked in a malevolent tone.
"I am… the thieving Mudblood… Hermione Granger," she responded condescendingly.
"You... YOU… YOU!" Bellatrix spat, apoplectic with rage as she pointed her wand at Hermione.
Hermione raised her own wand at Bellatrix as she started to move closer.
"Yes, me," Hermione said, moving around the room to draw Bellatrix's gaze away from the cupboard where Narcissa was still hidden. "You think you could get rid of me that easily?" Hermione laughed, enraging Bellatrix further. "You are nothing, nothing now. You have no power here. You are no more. You don't belong here. Begone."
Bellatrix fired another curse at Hermione, who deflected it easily.
Hermione yelled, "Stupefy!" It felt so good to watch Bellatrix fall to the floor stunned.
She signalled to Narcissa to come out. When she opened the door and saw her sister motionless on the floor a small tear ran down her cheek. She may have wanted to defeat her but she still loved her. When Hermione turned to look at Narcissa she saw the anguish on her face. Hermione didn't like seeing Narcissa in pain, especially after all the help she'd given Hermione so she raised her wand to Bellatrix and said, "Finite incantatem."
Narcissa mouthed a 'thank you' to Hermione and blew the horn which resonated with a surprisingly melodic delicate tone. In a puff of smoke, Bellatrix was gone. Back to where she belonged. The afterlife.
Hermione looked back at Narcissa who gave a grim nod, tears wetting her pale cheeks.
Hermione understood. She may not have agreed with what her sister believed but it was still her sister and knowing that she could never again speak with her sister while she lived must be a hard thought to bear.
Finally, everything was going to go back to normal. For now anyway…