Chapter 4: Ubi amor, ibi dolor ~ Where there is love there is pain

Was it possible for someone's world to shatter so completely that the fabric of the universe just unravels? Hermione knew she was watching that very event unfold. Voldemort hadn't gone to the cave or the pathetic shack of his forsaken family. He came to Hogwarts. To the chamber of the patriarch he respected. To use what he considered his legacy as a safe haven to decide his next steps. And she delivered Harry to him.

Harry's foot pressed down painfully on her wand hand long enough to wrench it away. What did it matter? What spell did she know that would dispossess someone? Any other spell she used would be on Harry not Voldemort.

She lay there looking up, questioning her choices. Waiting for oblivion.

Harry pointed his wand at her. "Legilimens."

It wasn't what she expected, she never had a chance to mount an occlumency defense. She just assumed he would kill her without giving her a second thought. Instead she saw herself in front of the Gaunt shack, drinking the polyjuice potion. Transforming into Bellatrix. Relived the moment the dagger was plunged into Voldemort's chest. The water that surrounded her real body, felt like pools of blood in her mind.

A yell of frustration echoed off the walls. Harry released Hermione, but didn't lower his wand. He was breathing heavily. An invisible war was being waged even as the real battle played out above them. No one knew where they went. No one would come for them. She squeezed her eyes, felt pressure and tightness already where Harry had hit. Not Harry. If there was a way out of the situation for both of them she needed to remember the person who attacked her was Voldemort. "I bet you didn't think you'd find yourself in this situation again, Tom," she said, using his given name to make a point. The Chamber was Tom's secret. "A soul condemned to haunt places meant for the living."

"If you think I won't kill you at any time, you're wrong," he warned quietly. "I need information from you, but I can get it from him too."

It was a good point. If he hadn't learned all he needed from Harry that meant Harry wasn't giving him complete control. A glimmer of hope. She shifted and was rewarded with a swift kick to her side. She heard a crack, felt a jolt of pain and knew something broke under the force.

"Don't. Move," he said menacingly.

Why wasn't he using magic, she wondered. Was he just that out of control or was Draco's wand not working effectively? The legilimency was adequate. Voldemort wasn't simply adequate. Regardless, the message was received. Hermione let out a breath, realized her mistake and let the rest of the air out gently before taking a shallow breath. Manageable. "What–" she started. He shot her a glare.

He stood there, flexed his fingers on his free hand. She suspected he was testing the limits of his control. She watched intently. She needed to know too. Could he sense the Horcrux? Did he have access to just Harry's physical body? If that was the case, could that change? The soul was such an ill defined essence it was really impossible to know the answers.

"How did you know I wouldn't kill Bellatrix?" he asked. Something in his demeanor had changed and she wasn't sure how to qualify the shift. Less aggressive might be the best way to describe it. As if he accepted that his answers wouldn't come easily from the mind he controlled and he needed to be more deferential if he was going to get it from Hermione.

She figured he was capable of charisma. Power and fear alone couldn't retain the loyalty he commanded. Especially not when he started his movement. Lie or tell the truth? It was a balance and she'd have limited opportunities to survive a lie. This was a piece of information that wasn't worth wasting a chance on. "Delphini. I learned about Delphini when we were at Malfoy Manor."

With some shock, she saw a flash of emotion. Sentimentality? Pride? Did he see the value of having an heir? Love wasn't a feeling she thought he was capable of, perhaps that was wrong. Maybe it was a feeling he wasn't capable of understanding. Why would he? What positive example did he have to emulate.

"Delphini," he repeated and quickly changed the subject. "You have one of my Horcruxes."

One of them…he was just now learning how compromised he was. He must know the diary was gone. He likely thought the cup and diadem were untouchable. There was no way for her to have a giant snake hidden somewhere. He was referring to the locket or the ring. "No," she said and saw the wand in his hand twitch. "Someone else found the locket before us. Dumbledore found the ring."

He growled at the news that two of them were compromised. "Who found the locket?"

"I don't know. There was a note inside with initials."

"What initials?" he leaned forward excitedly. It was possible the locket was still safe.

"RAB," Hermione answered. The hard ground was starting to hurt. Shifting as imperceptibly as she could, she felt something under her. A stick maybe? No. Ron's wand. It was still in her back pocket. Completely forgotten. She'd just need him to turn around, turn his attention away to get off a full body bind curse. And then what? He could just leave Harry's body, wait for another opportunity or someone else entirely. She had hoped that this level of possession would require acceptance on the victim's part. That might be true, but the rules were different for Harry and Voldemort. They shared so much. Harry had a piece of his soul and when he was alive, Voldemort's blood was essentially Harry's blood. Some religions thought the soul was in the blood. Would permission be needed for someone to possess a part of themselves?

While she had been assessing, so had Voldemort. "Regulus," he finally decided. "He wouldn't have had the power or skill to destroy it before he died. Dumbledore is another matter." He turned his attention back to Hermione. "You've got nerve, I'll give you that. Who helped you?"

He didn't know about Snape. He was still in the dark. "No one."

"You got in and out without assistance?" he said and laughed. It wasn't a sound she ever thought she'd hear Harry make. What he said next wasn't a word she thought he'd say either, especially not directed at her. "Crucio."

The spell hit her with mixed results. An uncomfortable static built up around her, she felt muscles start to cramp. She wanted to curl up in a ball, but she was still self aware enough to know she couldn't expose her back pocket. Couldn't let him know she had a wand.

"You're lying," he yelled in frustration. It seemed like he was going to cast the curse again when Harry's eyes cleared.

Gone were the red irises and replaced by the green eyes of the man she loved. The pain and torment roiling in them were enough to break her heart. She didn't have time to comfort him. The control he was exerting was likely fleeting. Grabbing the wand, she leveled it at him, tried to ask permission.

He nodded, fell to one knee under the mental strain.

"Petrificus Totalus," she said, watched him stiffen and fall to the ground. She wanted to yell, scream, and cry. There was no time for such luxuries. Crawling to him, she grabbed his wand, took his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. They were still green. "Harry, keep him there. You hear me. Keep him there. I have an idea. Let him have control, but don't let him leave." She hoped he had the ability to do what she asked.

Looking around the bare chamber she transfigured a rock into a chair, levitated Harry to it, dropped the body bind curse and immediately tied him to ropes conjured from the tip of her wand.

His eyes were red again and he struggled against his bindings.

Hermione clutched her side. She'd been able to push through the pain. At a price. Transfiguring another chair, she sat heavily. Sweat dripped down her back and she felt her hair sticking to her face. It wasn't hot in the chamber. In fact, there was a chill.

"I won't let him go. He's mine now," Voldemort said. "Unless you intend to kill your precious chosen one, you won't win this."

"I will win. Let me tell you why," she started, leaned forward. "Your fear of death led you to the edge of an early grave. We don't have any of your Horcruxes because they're all destroyed."

He scoffed. "I wouldn't still be here if that was true," he said confidently.

"The diary, Harry destroyed with a basilisk fang his second year. The ring, Dumbledore found in the floor of your family home, destroyed with Gryffindor's sword imbued with the same venom," she ticked the first two off on her fingers. Found small pleasure in his displeasure at the description of the shack. "The locket, RAB found it, hid it in 12 Grimmauld Place, a home passed down to Harry when Sirius Black was killed. Destroyed by the sword. Helga Hufflepuff's cup, retrieved from the vault of the Lestrange Family, destroyed this afternoon by the sword. Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem, found in the Room of Requirement and destroyed less than an hour ago with the sword." Each mention of a Horcrux and its location looked as if she was landing physical blows. "Really, you should have tried harder to get the sword. Complete your founder's treasures." Hermione sat back in her chair and readied the final insult. "That wasn't the dumbest decision you made in all of this. You stored a Horcrux in a snake. A mortal creature that could simply be beheaded."

There was no way to tell if his outburst of anger and frustration was due to the loss of his prized Nagini or the acceptance that it was possible his Horcruxes were gone. He tried lunging at her, and she was ready. As the legs of the chair left the ground, a simple levitation chair stalled the force, leaving him to helplessly float forward, propelled by the momentum. She let him twist in the air for several seconds before directing it back to the ground and melding the chair with the rock floor.

Voldemort's eyes were shifting back and forth as he tried to process the implication of her words. "Impossible. I would know. I would have felt it."

It was her turn to scoff. "You think your mangled fragment of a soul could feel if another shattered piece was released from this world?"

"One must have survived," he said more forcefully. "That's the only way I could still be bound to the earth."

Her next words could seal Harry's fate. She gave Voldemort a sympathetic look. "There is another Horcrux keeping you here. It's just not one you made. Not on purpose. Can't you feel it? It would make sense that a fragment lost hundreds of kilometers away wouldn't cause a ripple that could reach you, but you're basically touching your seventh Horcrux. Search deeply, reach out. See if it responds."

He didn't want to do what she asked, desperation compelled him. It took nearly a full minute for skepticism to give way to understanding.

"That's right. Your soul was so broken when you killed Lily Potter that a part of it broke off and attached itself to Harry in that crib. You deliberately divided your soul into seven pieces and you didn't think there would be consequences?"

"This isn't right. This isn't how it was supposed to be," Voldemort said. Confidence gone.

"How was it supposed to be? You were supposed to cheat death. Twice. And the universe wasn't going to ask you to pay that debt?"

"It doesn't matter. I have Harry. As long as he's alive, I live."

"And when he dies? Then what? You have thousands of followers convinced Harry Potter needs to die. He's one man. Eventually, they'll succeed," she explained and stood. Tapping her wand on her hand she paced out several strides and then turned. "But maybe there's another way."

"There's no other way."

"I've spent a year studying Horcruxes. Desperate to learn everything I could. When you died, your soul stayed here. Tethered to the Horcruxes that still existed. Why not merge the remaining Horcrux with your soul? As long as the Horcrux exists, you exist. And who knows, maybe some damage to what's left of you can be repaired."

She could tell he wanted to believe what she was saying. "Even if it that's true, there's no way to remove a Horcrux without destroying it."

Sitting smugly, she crossed her legs. "I thought you'd be an expert on this subject. How is it possible a mudblood knows more than you about dark magic? You can repair your soul with a simple act of remorse."

His face screwed up in disgust. "You've spent too much time around Albus Dumbledore. His theories on the power of love are naïve. What you say isn't possible."

Opening her beaded bag, she dug around for the book she needed. Pulling out Secrets of the Darkest Arts, if this worked, she'd never let Ron and Harry forget her library saved them all. Flipping to the section she needed, she set it down on Voldemort's lap. Gave him time to read the page.

"All I have to do is feel sorry about killing the girl?" he mocked.

"Her name is Lily. Lily Potter, and she didn't deserve to die just because you believe in a prophecy," Hermione countered harshly. "You might not be capable of remorse, but you're possessing the body of a man who is filled with more emotional intelligence than any man I know. Let me talk to him. Let me help you both."

"Why would you do this?"

"Because I love him," her voice cracked. "I would do anything to save him." The truth of her words carried a magic of its own. Without warning, she was looking at Harry again. "Listen to me. Harry, I need you to do something." She rested her hands on his over the ropes. "We're going to help him."

He listened with disbelief.

"It's the only way to save you. He needs to regret the death of Lily. Feel remorse over his actions. You have to let him experience your memories of that night. Make him feel your loss and remorse as strongly as he made you feel hate in the ministry. Can you do that?"

"Hermione. I–"

"Trust me," she pleaded, tears welling up. "This is our only chance. Do this for me."

He clearly didn't understand, but he trusted her. Nodding, he struggled a moment and Voldemort was back.

"Let Harry take you to the night Lily died. You have to feel his pain. Use that to regret what happened and see if you're capable of remorse. If that doesn't work, imagine it's Delphini who was orphaned that night. Your heir whose life you destroyed. See if you have an ounce of humanity left in your soul."

She hoped taunting him would make him take it seriously. See it as a challenge. Hermione also desperately hoped her theory would work. This could all come crashing down. Her hands flew up to her mouth, all she could do was watch as the dark lord turned inward. Waited to be led to memories and emotions he sought. It was eerily silent. Wishing there was some way she could know it was working, she had to trust Harry. Had to trust he understood what was needed.

A cry of pain and anguish pierced the quiet. Harry's eyes were squeezed tight, tears streaming out at the corners. Still it didn't end. He thrashed in the seat. Fighting an invisible enemy. "Come on," she whispered. Anticipating what was about to happen, she secured her wand and quietly pulled out the sword from her bag. She stood, and took several steps backward.

Then Harry yelled, his mouth open wide. A vile black cloud that was smoke and liquid at the same time poured out of him. It accumulated in the air above them. A massive, churning, nebulous form. It filled the chamber with despair and fear. She tightened her grip on the hilt. Waited for it to move away from Harry. It seemed to be in a state of shock.

"Tom! Here. I killed Bellatrix," she shouted. As she expected, it rushed toward her. Hermione swung the sword with all her strength. As it cut through what was left of Voldemort, she felt resistance. As if it was sundering soul from Horcrux. Hermione held on to the sword, forcing it forward until it finally reached the end and gave way. The tip of the blade hit the rock bed, sparks flew up as she crashed down to her knees.

Feeling drained, she knew she couldn't assume Voldemort was really gone. Letting her guard down would be suicide. Her hand shook as she felt for her wand and stood. Vine wand in one hand, sword in the other, she spun on her spot, looking for any sign Voldemort survived.

"Hermione," Harry called to her. "Untie me. Let me help."

Not entirely willing to accept he was safe, she studied him. "He's really gone?"

Nodding vehemently, he maintained eye contact. Unsure what else he could say or do to convince her.

Hermione picked up the dark arts book. At some point it had been tossed to the ground.

Harry laughed despite the situation. "You're going to take care of a book before you help me?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Hermione joined him in laughter before remembering she had several broken ribs. Sitting, she waited for the pain to subside. Once recovered, she saw the pain in Harry's eyes and she knew it wasn't Voldemort. With her wand, she released the bindings.

Eyeing her warily, he was at a loss for what to do. "Hermione, I'm sorry."

She put up her hand and stopped him. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare apologize for hurting me. That wasn't you and we both know it."

He didn't protest. Instead, he helped her to her feet. Traced the bruise on her cheek lightly. He let out a shaky breath. "I don't know how you did this."

"It seemed like the only way," she said and shrugged. Finally all the pent of emotions rose to the surface as she studied Harry. Voldemort was gone. Harry was free and alive.

Harry saw the tidal wave crash over her. He caught her as her knees buckled. "Easy. I've got you. It's over."