A/N
One more update before Christmas and the end of 2024! Here's my gift to you all.
A gasp was torn from Hermione's lips once the apparation was completed, her lungs burning after the sudden and unexpected constriction. She stared around wildly for some hint of where she was, of why the auror had abducted her. Was this something to do with the Ministry? Did Scrimgeour have a new plot to try and force Harry's hand?
The room was grand enough in its furnishings for the Ministry but it had a more personal air, like a private study, rather than an office of state. Before she could get a better look, there was a voice behind them.
"Finally - I was beginning to suspect you weren't going to come through as promised, Lawson."
A man's voice. It wasn't harsh or cruel, but there was a definite hint of underlying menace. Hermione didn't recognise it.
Her arm was pinned painfully behind her back and a wand jabbed into her throat as the auror turned her roughly. Hermione recognised the man no more than his voice. His features were hard, his eyes merciless as they fixed on her. Despite her fear at the situation, Hermione forced herself to remain calm enough to keep her mental shields in place. She didn't know what she was up against. She'd been stupid enough to let her guard down for a few seconds, emotionally distracted by what she'd done to her parents and believing herself safe with an auror, and now she was in unknown danger. All of Antonin's hard work with the bracelet was now potentially wasted - she hadn't even put up a fight, she'd bloody handed over her own wand! If she wasn't so scared, she'd be utterly ashamed and embarrassed at her own naivety. But she did still have the bracelet, she wasn't completely without hope but the odds were very much stacked against her unless she could lay her hand on a wand as well.
"She arrived later than normal," the auror said, a touch of nerves in her voice. "It wasn't my fault."
"Where am I?" Hermione asked, her own voice trembling despite her attempts to be strong. "Who are you? What do you want?" She pulled against the auror's hold but it only made her arm hurt. "You can't just -"
"So this is her," the man interrupted, taking a couple of steps closer as he continued to stare at her. "The mystery girl visiting Antonin Dolohov in prison. The girl the Ministry doesn't want anyone to know about, the girl our own aurors can't name." He gave the auror - Lawson - a look of contempt.
"I tried," Lawson insisted. "I told you - there was only so much digging I could do without arousing suspicion, just like you. I've brought her here, haven't I?"
Hermione's heart was beating even more wildly in her chest. This wasn't a Ministry plot - at least not on Scrimgeour's orders. There was another alarming possibility, one she'd been too terrified to even think about until now…
The man grunted and looked at Hermione again, his eyes alight with interest. "What's so special about you, sweetheart? Why all the secrecy, hmmm?"
She glared at him, forcing her lips together. As long as they didn't know who she was, there was a chance she might avoid disaster - or even death. They wouldn't get it from her mind because her walls were too strong, and she internally vowed to withstand any torture they might put her through. All she needed was a chance - the smallest slip up - and she'd be able to escape.
The man laughed in the face of her defiance and turned his head to the side. "Come here, boy."
Hermione gasped in a breath, her eyes drawn to a movement at the side of the room. She'd been so focused on the man that she hadn't realised anyone else was present and as the figure stepped closer, horror flooded through her body. She knew him. Warrington. A Slytherin who had graduated from Hogwarts last year. He'd been part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.
"Do you recognise her?" the older man asked. "Can you name her?"
Warrington was big and bulky, easily the tallest person in the room. The last (and only previous) time Hermione had been close to him was in Umbridge's office when Harry had tried to call Sirius through her fire. Warrington had helped to restrain Ron, Ginny and the others after they'd been caught making a diversion. He would know her.
Her eyes pleaded with him not to give her away.
But Warrington smirked and her heart sank through her stomach. "Oh, I definitely know who she is. Uppity bitch. That's Hermione Granger. Potter's mudblood best friend."
Hermione felt all the blood drain from her face and her body wanted to melt through the floor.
Behind her, Lawson let out a quiet and disbelieving, "What?" and the auror's grip on her arm faltered, but Hermione had no chance to take advantage of it because the unknown man also took hold of her now, dragging her closer to Warrington.
"You're sure it's her, boy?" he asked eagerly. "The mudblood? I'd hate to have to punish my own nephew should you be mistaken."
There was a momentary glint of fear in Warrington's eyes but then his jaw tightened stubbornly. "It's her," he insisted. "I'm certain. She was never away from Potter's side."
Warrington's uncle gave a bark of laughter and pushed Hermione even closer to the former Slytherin, completely taking her away from the auror's grip. "Hold her, Cassius."
Hermione twisted her body, trying to evade him and take her moment to escape. "No, let me go!" she cried, but Warrington's large hands closed over her shoulder and forearm, holding her tight. She recalled that he'd been on Slytherin's quidditch team and she knew it was going to be difficult to get away from him.
"Shut it, mudblood," he hissed, giving her a hard shake to subdue her. "Time for you to learn your damn place."
His uncle had turned back to the auror. Lawson's eyes were wide, her expression troubled as she looked at Hermione. "Well, Lawson - you've outdone yourself." She flinched and averted her eyes. "She could've been an absolute no-one, just a peculiarity that needed clearing up. But instead you've delivered us someone that'll bring Potter to his knees." The man flashed a malicious grin at Hermione. "Hell, you might've just won us the whole fucking war."
Hermione shook her head to ward off his prediction as the unnamed threat - of what 'us' they were a part of - swelled and loomed over her.
Lawson's fingers were gripped tightly around her wand, her free hand clenched into a fist. She looked up at Hermione with heavy, guilty features. Please, Hermione desperately mouthed at her because Lawson looked to be an unwilling accomplice. It wasn't too late for her to escape if Lawson quickly took out the man and then attacked Warrington, who wasn't even holding a wand right now.
Lawson closed her eyes and sighed, before looking at the man again. "Yaxley. My daughter - you promised."
The man - Yaxley - waved a dismissive hand. "She's off Fenrir's assigned prey list - for now," he added menacingly. "He is very fond of snacking on babies."
Lawson looked both relieved and terrified, but the mention of the werewolf's name - knowing who he was associated with - was an additional proof to Hermione of just how much danger she was in.
"Stay here," Yaxley ordered the auror, "in case we have further need of you tonight." Lawson looked like she wanted to protest, that she thought she'd already upheld the bargain for her daughter's life, but she grudgingly nodded. "You have the mudblood's wand?" Lawson nodded again. "Hold onto it for now - she certainly won't be needing it."
"What will you do with her?" Lawson asked tightly, her eyes darting to Hermione. "You said you wouldn't hurt her."
Yaxley shrugged. "That was before I knew who she was." He laughed at the woman's distress. "Save your conscience, Lawson - you always knew it was this girl's life or your daughter's. I'm sure most mothers would've made the same decision. Now, unless you want to take up a renegotiation with the one who's really giving the orders, I suggest you take a seat and try not to think about what might be happening elsewhere in this house."
Lawson staggered sideways with terrified eyes, nearly bumping into an ornate desk. "He's here?" her voice rasped.
"He only wished to be disturbed if Dolohov's mystery visitor was of consequence," Yaxley replied and fixed his eyes on Hermione again. "And I think the Dark Lord will be most interested in meeting you, mudblood. Bring her, Cassius."
Hermione had spent the last couple of minutes convincing herself to remain calm as her world spiralled out of control, but the combined confirmation of her worst fears and Warrington's forceful movements sparked her into action. "No." She twisted and struggled, kicked and stamped, dug her nails into whatever flesh she could find. "No." She wasn't going to let them lead her meekly to Voldemort. She had the bracelet but she was surely running out of time to escape - she hadn't expected to be brought before him so quickly.
Yaxley just laughed at her antics as he led the way out the door. "Feral little thing, aren't you? I suppose it's to be expected from someone like you."
"Stop it, you little bitch," Warrington muttered, struggling to contain her. For one brief moment she thought she had gotten free but he simply spun her round and viciously backhanded her across the face. She dropped to the floor with a cry as pain flared across her cheek, both from the force of the blow and skin contact from someone other than Antonin so late in her curse cycle. A little dazed, her struggles were much feebler now as Warrington half dragged her from the room.
She could taste blood in her mouth but she tried to get a hold of her senses as panic threatened to overwhelm her already muddled mind. Persisting with a physical fight wasn't going to help her. Within moments she was apparently going to be in front of Voldemort. How was she going to avoid compromising Harry and the whole damn war?
She had let everyone down.
She was a complete failure.
Bleakly, she wished she were dead.
Through half-lidded eyes she saw Yaxley's wand but even if she miraculously managed to get her hands on it and somehow found the courage to take her own life, she realised that it was already too late. Harry and the others would soon find that she was missing, and Voldemort only had to claim that Hermione was still alive and in need of rescue to get Harry to do something foolish enough to try and save her. Whether she was truly alive or dead, Dumbledore would try and stop Harry - and she hoped the Headmaster would succeed. She didn't deserve rescuing after her thoughtless mistake, she didn't want to be a weight around her friends' necks. But she wasn't sure she could do anything that would prevent it.
Voldemort would want to know about Antonin as well as the Order secrets that she knew. Would he try to torture the information out of her or would he attempt to extract it from her mind through Legilimency? Could she withstand the mental onslaught of the most feared dark wizard of all time? The thought made her feel sick. She could keep out all of Snape's attacks but her professor wasn't willing to break her mind to access her memories like Voldemort would be and - She gasped. Professor Snape. If Voldemort overwhelmed her, he would find out that Snape had been helping her, that he'd known for months about her vulnerability from the curse! She would be Snape's death sentence and the Order would lose their greatest spy just as the war was reaching a critical point.
It was as that realisation swept through her that they came to a stop.
"I'll take her from here," Yaxley said. "You remain by the door in case you're called for."
"Do you think he will?" Warrington asked, sounding scared, but his uncle ignored him and grabbed Hermione's arm. He pulled her towards a heavy wooden door. She'd never been so scared in her life, but she had to be brave and push it down so that she could focus enough to limit the monstrous damage she'd caused.
Yaxley knocked briskly on the door, there was a slight pause, then the door swung slowly open. Hermione tried to dig her heels in, everything was happening too fast. She wasn't ready to face Voldemort, she wasn't ready to be the downfall of all those that she cared about and life in magical Britain as they knew it. But Yaxley forced her through the open doorway until it clicked definitively closed behind them.
The room was rather shadowed. The main source of light was a fireplace but there were a few lit candles in various markers around the room, however Hermione was too fixated on the menacing presence she sensed within to pay any attention to the decor or furnishings.
"You've caught an itty-bitty fishy in your net, Yaxley," said a voice that made Hermione even more frightened than before. It was high-pitched and deliberately girlish. She'd heard it once previously and had hoped to never do so again. "I hope you're not wasting our time with a little minnow," Bellatrix Lestrange said with a pout as she rose from an armchair to come and get a closer look.
Hermione instinctively tried to move back but Yaxley forced her further into the room. "Not according to my nephew. He knew the girl at once and is completely certain about her identity."
Hermione could feel Bellatrix's eyes on her but she was anxious that she still hadn't placed Voldemort's whereabouts within the room. Yaxley abruptly pushed her downwards and she stumbled to her knees with a repressed whimper as he bowed deeply next to her. "My Lord," Yaxley said reverently. "We could not have hoped for a better prize - Potter's mudblood friend."
There was a hiss from Bellatrix and a rustle of fabric somewhere else in the room but Hermione kept her face lowered to the floor. It was taking so much effort to try and regulate her breathing, and her heart was racing in terror.
"This is the student visiting Dolohov?"
The new voice sent a shiver down Hermione's spine.
"Yes, my Lord."
There were quick footsteps and then Hermione's head was yanked backwards by a merciless grip in her hair that forced a surprised cry from her throat. She was staring into the manic face of Bellatrix.
"Well, Bella?" casually enquired that other voice again, like Hermione was some item Yaxley had procured in a shop.
"What happened to her face?" Bellatrix asked, then she poked the tip of her wand into Hermione's cheek and dragged it down towards her lip, making Hermione flinch and whimper in pain.
"Cassius had to hit her to make her behave," Yaxley replied unfeelingly.
Bellatrix giggled. "Of course - beasts only know how to respond to pain. A few pretty bruises would make this ugly little thing more bearable to look at." She pushed her wand tip into the part of Hermione's cheek where Warrington's strike was most painful - almost like she knew the precise point where the suffering would be greatest. Hermione tried to move her head away from the agony but Bellatrix's grip in her hair was surprisingly strong, and she could only shudder and clamp her lips down on the pained cry that wanted to escape her throat. Then she was gone and Hermione's head fell forwards with a small gasp.
"I confess, my Lord, that I did not get a look at the mudblood last year," Bellatrix said, her voice noticeably less playful when addressing Voldemort - perhaps because of the Death Eaters' collective failure to successfully carry out his orders in the Department of Mysteries. "But Yaxley's nephew would have to have a death wish to falsely identify her to you. It must be her."
Again there was the sound of shifting fabric, followed by soft footsteps that she was horrifyingly certain were coming closer to her. "Look at me, child," he ordered simply. "Let us settle the matter."
Hermione knew that defying him would only make him angry and likely bring her more pain, but she was too stubborn to just give in straight away.
"Do not fear, girl, this will not hurt," he said but Hermione kept her eyes down, her heart thumping wildly.
Bellatrix made a noise of complaint. "Can't we make it hurt?" she asked hopefully. "Especially if the brat continues not to do as you've ordered, my Lord."
"There will be time for that later," Voldemort said, and her stomach lurched at him so casually permitting violence against her. "I want this resolved now. Yaxley - unburden her of her will."
Hermione only had a moment to comprehend what was about to happen before she felt the wand tip at the back of her skull. They had never tested the bracelet's ability to block spells with the opponent's wand so close to the body before. She couldn't let them put her under the Imperius curse - they could get her to do anything! She only had one chance and she didn't even know if the bracelet was strong enough to block such a powerful spell. In a desperate move, she ducked even lower and threw her hands behind her head. Yaxley just laughed coldly at what he assumed was her fear. "Imperio."
Hermione felt the metal bracelet shift ever so slightly, indicating that it had cracked like all the others. But she had to make them think that she'd thrown off a successfully cast curse instead of it just being blocked because she couldn't afford for them to try it again. "No," she said as defiantly as she could.
"My Lord, I -" Yaxley said, sounding shocked. "No one has ever -"
"Stubborn and strong-willed," Voldemort cut across him, in a musing tone. "Just like Harry Potter."
There was a long pause and Hermione barely dared to breathe, let alone move.
"Bella."
The word had barely left Voldemort's mouth before there was an eager cry of, "Crucio!"
Hermione's whole world contracted down to pain. She could not think. She had no control over her body or awareness of anything other than the agony that suffused every part of her.
The curse was released but her body continued to suffer in its aftermath, her limbs trembling and aching, her throat sore from screams she hadn't heard herself making. She had no idea how long she'd been under the Cruciatus curse - time had lost all meaning.
"No one refuses the Dark Lord," Bellatrix's tone was harsh and incensed - and a little excited. "Especially not lowly mudbloods like you!"
"You can continue your lesson later," Voldemort said but that was little comfort to Hermione. She had been braced for further pain but instead she quickly tried to regain a mental calmness in preparation for a different kind of attack. She had to be smart now, smarter than she'd ever been in her life. She'd shown some resilience to satisfy her pride - and possibly meet their expectations - but she couldn't afford to expend the extra energy that further outright defiance would require because she'd need it for when Voldemort inevitably entered her mind. She had to be realistic. As strong as she'd become in Occlumency, she knew she couldn't hope to hide everything she wished to from him. She couldn't conjure enough false memories to create a different identity, to hide the fact that she really was Hermione Granger. She could not save herself. Her dependance on Antonin wasn't even particularly important anymore because they already had her - either they would let the curse consume her in the next couple of days or they would break him from prison and prolong her own captivity. Instead, she had to prioritise Harry's chances of defeating this evil monster: that meant protecting Snape and nine months' worth of extra meetings between them that proved he knew about the curse's side effects. It would require immense skill and effort on her part to even manage the sheer amount of time they had spent together, but on top of that she had to make her false memories convincing enough to hoodwink - of all people - Voldemort. She had to give it her best shot: as much as it should benefit Harry's fight, she also owed it to Snape after everything her professor had done for her.
She felt her body rising but the strangeness of the sensation told her that she was being lifted with magical means. Her legs and spine straightened against her own will but her feet didn't reach the floor, leaving her suspended in the air. A hand grasped her chin, forcing her head up, but their touch burned. Her eyes screwed up in pain and she twisted her head, unable to lift her arms to push them away. But her struggles only made them hold on tighter. "It burns…" she cried, not able to stop herself from fighting to get away from their touch. "… the curse… your skin…" She was just about to beg, even though she desperately didn't want to, but the hand was removed. She gasped in relief, her lungs heaving.
"Lawson said the aurors all thought you'd been cursed in some way," Yaxley's intrigued voice came from next to her but then his tone darkened. "Well, if you don't want my hand on you, girl - and, believe me, I take no pleasure in touching filth like you - you'd better keep your fucking head up and those damned eyes open."
Hermione only had the length of two rapid heartbeats to compose herself before she felt the tip of a wand under her chin, encouraging her to lift and meet the owner's gaze - to face Voldemort. She set her jaw then jerked her head upwards with a look of defiance.
A gasp of horror was only just prevented from escaping her lips at the sight of him.
He was a monster. A creature of nightmares. Harry had never described him to her and she was so glad she had never asked him to relive the deathly-pale skin drawn tight over a hairless skeletal face, the slitted nose and blood-red eyes. Emotions relating to Harry, Antonin and so many others that she cared about threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced them down to focus on her mental shields and the fight ahead.
Voldemort's oddly lipless mouth twisted in response to her defiant expression and he lifted his hand high enough to bring his wand into her line of vision - the wand that had been the instrument of pain and death to so many over the years, the wand that was going to try and rip her secrets from her heart. But unlike most of Voldemort's victims, she at least had a chance of a small bit of resistance.
"Legilimens."
Hermione put up a semi-decent show of keeping him out. She saw the small look of surprise on his face at the realisation that she had Occlumency shields at all. His laugh was high and unsettling. "You think you can withstand the will and power of the Dark Lord, foolish child?"
She could feel him probing around her defences, looking for a weakness to exploit. He found the chink she had left in her armour and he mercilessly started tearing at it, trying to overwhelm her with pressure, until she intentionally let her shields fall.
Memories of her and Harry swam before her eyes - taking on the mountain troll in their First Year, brewing the Polyjuice Potion, crawling through the roots of the Whomping Willow, studying together in the library when everyone else thought he'd put his name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry teaching her how to cast a Patronus, them attending Slughorn's Christmas party together - then Voldemort was gone. But she knew he'd be back because he'd want to know about Antonin, and he likely wouldn't wait for her to tell him.
"You have done well, Corban," Voldemort said silkily. "Very well. She is who your nephew claims her to be."
Bellatrix let out a gasp of delight, her manic eyes fixed almost hungrily on Hermione's face, and Yaxley bowed low again, murmuring his reverence and devotion to Voldemort.
"We have a hold over Potter, the old man and their ridiculous Order the likes of which we've never had before," Voldemort said. "We must plan carefully to ensure we use the mudblood in the way that will inflict the most damage."
Hermione felt sick at their triumph. It was so tempting to give in to the panic and despair that wanted to claw into her at the prospect of what her future might hold, but she forcibly kept them at bay. Her life hardly mattered anymore. There were other, more important things to focus on.
"Those light-cursed idiots are even more woefully foolish than we ever realised," Bellatrix said with relish. "Letting this muddy thing out alone where anyone could lay their hands on her!"
"Their arrogance and stupidity knows no bounds," Voldemort agreed. "Them and the Ministry. The magical community - indeed the whole country - will welcome true leadership and subjugation when I take my rightful place."
"Will you call a meeting, my Lord?" Yaxley asked. "Surely the mudblood will soon be missed - it might be wise to act swiftly whilst our advantage is at its greatest point."
"Perhaps," Voldemort replied but then his red eyes were on Hermione once more. "But there is more I wish to know first about Dolohov's role in her life, about the curse she spoke of."
That was all the warning Hermione got of his second Legilimency attack but she was prepared. She let her initial defences fall within a couple of seconds then hoped he remained unaware that he was within a second layer of protection where she planned to show him what he wanted to see without him detecting her hand or manipulations behind it. The easiest way to show a convincing false memory was to adapt as little of it as possible. So she allowed him to truthfully see Kingsley at her bedside nearly a year ago as he explained that Dolohov's curse had lingering side-effects, her first conscious meeting with Antonin, glimpses of their arguments over the summer, a sighting of her scar in the mirror, the burning she would feel if anyone touched her at the peak of her burning cycle, an adapted memory of Dumbledore beginning to instruct her in Occlumency at the start of the school year, Professor McGonagall escorting her to the school gates, her more amiable meetings with Antonin where they discussed Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, her frustration as she looked down at his notebooks as she continued to attempt to find a cure for the curse. Just as she was beginning to worry that she was running out of safer memories to show him, Voldemort pulled back from her mind.
Hermione waited, tense and alert for an indication that he had picked up on any falsehoods in what he'd seen. Concerningly, Voldemort's gaze was pensive as he regarded her in silence.
"My Lord?" Yaxley prompted nervously after a lengthy pause.
"She survived one of his deadly curses, cast non-verbally after she silenced him," Voldemort said. Her heart pulsed anxiously when his gaze dropped lower. "Since then, some of Dolohov's residual magic resides within her, threatening to consume her." There was another slight pause and then Voldemort flicked his wand. To her horror, she felt her cloak and robes fall from her shoulders, and another wand gesture pulled most of her shirt apart to reveal the scar underneath. Hermione whimpered in embarrassment, fear and the sensation of air against her sensitive skin.
"It's beautiful," Bellatrix moaned and the little of Hermione's body that could move shuddered in disgust.
Voldemort's eyes were also fixed on her scar. "Dolohov's touch can hold back the curse for a few days."
"They send her on her own to Azkaban so she can get regularly felt up by a Death Eater?" Yaxley asked in faint disbelief, but his eyes were roaming over her body in a way that made Hermione feel very uncomfortable.
"Even though Antonin is forced to touch a mudblood, he must love her screams," Bellatrix said with a wicked grin. "She screamed so prettily for us earlier."
"Oh, no, Bella," Voldemort replied softly. "While she will be in agony if someone else should touch her as the curse nears its peak…" His abnormally long, pale fingers seemed to descend upon her in slow motion.
She only had time to gasp out a panicked, "No!" before scorching agony flared in her scar. No one else had ever touched her there before, least of all when she was already burning up. Even though it was impossible to get away, she thrashed and writhed as best she could to save herself from the searing pain, her screams piercing the night. Every slight press and movement of his fingers was like a burning ember on raw nerves.
She sagged in exhaustion when Voldemort let up. Without the magic holding her in place, she would've crumpled to a heap on the floor.
"I can feel Dolohov's magic fighting against me, rejecting my interference," Voldemort said calmly, as though he hadn't just casually tortured her. "So when he is the one touching her, the effect is quite the opposite. Isn't that right, mudblood?"
Hermione had tried not to let him pick it up from what she'd allowed him to see in her mind but the relief was so strong that some hint of it must have passed through to him. She was worried that if she denied it he would delve into her mind just to prove her wrong; there were many other aspects of her time with Antonin that she couldn't afford for him to know about and she wasn't sure she had the continued strength and skill to mislead him again. But she was too proud to admit to these terrible people that she enjoyed and craved Antonin's touch like nothing else. So she merely kept her lips pressed tightly together.
Voldemort laughed coldly, taking her silence for confirmation.
"Filthy mudblood whore," Yaxley whispered lowly in her ear and she jerked her head away from him, tears beginning to prick at her eyes.
"Yes, the pull of Dark magic," Voldemort hissed, his eyes back on her scar again. "Living in you, coupled with you. And no cure yet found…" His gaze was thoughtful again. "I wonder…"
Magic streamed from his wand into her scar and her suffering returned. Under her screams she could feel Voldemort's invasive magic surrounding the scar and sinking through into the core of her being. It tugged and pulled within her like he was trying to rip and tear her apart from the inside. She felt like she was on fire, heat rolled off her in waves. Then he was in her mind once more. She tried her best to fight him but the pain was too much for her. For now, she was a passenger in her own mind as Voldemort took her right back to the moment Antonin had cast the curse. Her whole body heaved and she could sense her innate magic trying to violently repel Voldemort but he clung on. Memories whirled past too fast for either of them to see. The hold he had on her tugged as they paused on the moment she'd told Antonin what curse she'd thrown at Ron, then again when he'd calmed her after she'd had a minor panic attack about her vulnerability within the Order. That memory was scarily close to revealing secrets she must keep hidden and it sparked an extra surge of resistance in her despite her prolonged suffering, so when she saw Antonin asking her who the 'Order bastard' was - an incident she had no conscious recollection of - she was just able to change the memory's answer to 'Dumbledore'. She didn't understand what Voldemort was looking for, but her magic railed against his intrusion once more and she added the last of her mental strength to try and force him from her - but her effort was only successful because he must have been willing to retreat, satisfied with what he'd seen.
She slumped in exhaustion, her body reeling from the agony she'd been put through, but heat continued to flush in waves over her whole body. Sweat stung her eyes and dripped down her body. She knew this feeling. Voldemort had progressed her burning so far that if she didn't have access to Antonin very soon, she would slip completely under the curse's sway. Death could be but a few hours away.
"Yaxley, you will return the mudblood to Azkaban," Voldemort said.
There was a barely concealed gasp from Bellatrix and Yaxley stammered, "M-my Lord?"
"You see the state she's in - I've pushed the curse close to its limit," he answered calmly.
"But why not break Dolohov and the other inmates free, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked. "We've been waiting for the opportune moment to free all your loyal servants. If you care to keep the mudblood alive for longer, then surely this -"
"No," Voldemort cut across her. "There's no need."
There was a stunned silence. Hermione, too, was trying her best to understand Voldemort's reasoning but she was finding it difficult to concentrate.
"But the girl -" Yaxley began but he was also interrupted.
"Will easily be brought before us again," Voldemort stated with complete certainty and Hermione wearily forced her head up. Her stomach twisted at seeing the dark amusement on his face as he stared at her. With a wave of his wand over her body, her clothes mended themselves and she whimpered as she was enclosed in unbearable heat. "The mudblood is quite full of surprises - more than even she or Dolohov have realised yet," he said, continuing to look at her with something that was eerily like a smile, but somehow definitely not. "You are going to hurt Harry Potter like no other, and I'm going to find the perfect way and time to wound him the most," he promised her.
Hermione didn't know what he meant, what he had planned for her, but the words pierced her heart. Her mind - already affected by the curse - stumbled and struggled with her inability to fight against his plot or scheme when she didn't know any of the details other than that he intended to use her in some way.
"My Lord, forgive me," Yaxley said then hesitated as though he was anxious of upsetting Voldemort. "We're just letting her go free?"
"Very few people are truly free, Corban, you know that," Voldemort replied smoothly. "I will modify her memory so she has no awareness of this encounter, of course, but she is forever tied to Dolohov. His magic might have been removed by a skilled wizard within the first couple of days of the initial curse but it is now bound within her too tightly. To remove it would be to kill her. Either Dolohov will lead her back to me or Severus will. I shall summon him soon to inform him of the mudblood's curse."
"Snape?" Bellatrix said with clear hostility. "He has failed you, my Lord - how has he remained unaware of her curse if he is such a loyal and devoted spy?"
Hermione's mind was nearly at the point of shutting down, and she was still reeling at what Voldemort had said about releasing her with an altered mind, but further anxiety raced through her at the possibility that Snape was about to be exposed.
"Severus is invaluable to me, Bella." Voldemort's tone was sharper. "He has proven his loyalties to me more than once."
"Either the old fool never trusted Snape enough to tell him about the mudblood, or Snape has known all along and deliberately kept such priceless knowledge from you," Bellatrix argued breathlessly. "He is either a failure or a traitor."
"To question Severus is akin to questioning me," Voldemort said coldly. "To insult me. To doubt me."
"N-no, my Lord," Bellatrix objected, falling to her knees. "I am your most faithful servant. I only wish to serve you and bring about your wants, to protect you from those who mean to destroy you."
"And yet the mudblood's mind showed no evidence that Severus knows about her vulnerability," Voldemort said.
"Just because she hasn't witnessed it, it doesn't mean that he doesn't already know," Bellatrix argued. "Snape claims that he has Dumbledore's trust - why would this have been kept from him if that is so?"
"You are beginning to tire me, Bella," Voldemort said menacingly.
"If you tell Snape what we have discovered about the mudblood, she will slip through our fingers in some way before you have the chance to take her back in whatever plot you have envisioned," Bellatrix pressed. "He will make a convenient excuse and be careful to cover his tracks whilst he plots against you, my Lord. Snape cannot be trusted with something as important as this."
In the back of her mind, Hermione knew how vital this conversation was but she couldn't even make her mouth open, let alone voice anything that might influence Voldemort into telling Snape about what had happened here. The relentless pull of the curse was too strong, her body was overheating and beginning to fill with a desperate urge to find her cure. The voices around her were fading in and out of her hearing as though she was manipulating the frequency dial on a radio.
"My Lord," Yaxley said after clearing his throat. "Might I suggest a compromise…?"
And then her mind shut down on every thought other than Antonin. She needed to get to Antonin. He would save her. Antonin. Antonin. Antonin…
A/N I think I'm just as anxious to hear from you guys about this chapter as I was the first E scene! Unlike the majority of the last 30-odd chapters, this scene has actually been planned from the start so I'm SO happy to finally get it out there. Admittedly, it's about 95% different from when I first envisioned it though! I barely written any Voldemort or Bellatrix over the years so I hope they read somewhat true to the books.
I am desperate to know your thoughts, theories or predictions! Do you know what it is that Hermione and Antonin are unaware of yet? I know we had no Antonin in this chapter - always a shame - but I hope there was another drama and intrigue to make up for it!
Happy holidays to you all. Thank you for all the support, as always, and take care of yourself.