"What do you want?"
Hermione did not see any reason to beat around the bush. That Voldemort was here, in front of Shell Cottage, was her fault. She would find out what he wanted and she would fix her mistake. There were no other options.
"That is no way to great your superior, my sweet," he purred, a playful grin on his lips.
Wide eyed, she shot a glance back to her friends. Thankfully, they were too far away and too distracted by the Death Eaters to hear anything that was said between her and Voldemort.
Frowning, she looked back up at him. "I agree. Thankfully, no superiors are here. Again, what do you want?"
To her surprise, he continued smiling. As though her words weren't an insult to him. As though he wanted to indulge her. Like a parent looking at their child throwing a tantrum. She could almost feel the condescension leaking out of his every pore. Gritting her teeth, she raised an eyebrow and continue to stare up at him, not willing to back down now.
"My sweet little witch, it was you who sought me out. Just a couple of hours ago for you, if I am not mistaken?" It sounded like a question, but Hermione knew that he didn't have to actually ask that. "You see, for me, many, many years have passed since I last got to taste you. And it wasn't even the real you. Is it not expected that I seek you out at the first opportunity I get?"
Again, she could feel his fiery, ice-cold magic wash over her. He was teasing her and she hated it. It made her hairs stand on end. Whatever he wanted, it could not be good the way he approached her. She swallowed hard before she found the strength to reply. "So what, this is a booty call?"
"Hah!" Voldemort sounded genuinely amused. "You're trying your hardest to provoke me, sweet Hermione, and it will not work. I know you better than you think. Little Gryffindor trying to roar like a lion, but in truth, you are just a cute little kitten, afraid in front of a snake."
"What do you want?" Hermione repeated her initial question, getting annoyed and more scared with every word that he said. This was not the Voldemort she expected, not in this time. He seemed to much in control of himself, too stable. And that he would talk to her like this, a muggleborn witch for whom he would hold nothing but contempt, gave her the creeps.
"Ah, I am weak for bossy women. You got me there, my sweet." He patted her head with one of his pale, elegant hands. "If you must know, I intend to take you with me. Big things are ahead of us."
Hermione nodded. She had assumed as much. It didn't make it any less terrifying, but at least he was not here to kill her. She licked her lips before replying, "And my friends?"
For the first time, Voldemort actually looked at the other four, seemingly contemplating the question. "It is tempting to just kill Potter here and now. It is a step I need to take anyway, so why not now? The other three don't interest me. Blood traitors they may be, but the Weasleys are part of the most pureblooded families. It would be a shame to destroy them."
His gaze lingered on Harry for a moment longer before returning to her. There was a nonchalance to his tone that made her skin crawl. That anyone could talk about killing someone else, killing a child, that easily was beyond her comprehension. In all her time with Harry, resisting the many evils at Hogwarts, hunting Horcruxes this past year, she never truly understood how insanely devoid of humanity Voldemort was. His words just now chilled her to the bone.
"You are insane." No other words came over her lips. Just this one thought dominating every part of her brain.
He chuckled at that. "From your point of view, I understand." He was quiet for a moment, then he continued, "What would it take for you to come with me willingly?"
She almost laughed. Maybe he was not so stable after all. "There is nothing you can do or say that would make me come with you willingly. Nothing at all."
His smile was replaced by a calculating expression. Then, with a swiftness that made her head spin, Voldemort raised his own wand. Within seconds, four wands flew into his outstretched hand, while a thin black line erupted from his wand. With horror, Hermione watched as the line broke into four, closing around the necks of her friends, choking them, forcing them onto their knees.
"Stop," she pleaded, "please stop!"
He looked down on her. "Now. I could kill all four of them right here. Nothing would be easier. But I might be persuaded to spare them, all of them, if you agree to come with me."
He no longer smiled. His voice was flat and devoid of any emotion. Just raw coldness. Hermione shook her head, but she could not deny the truth. She was at his mercy. The second she awoke from the ritual, she had known that there was no place on this earth she could run to where he would not find her. She knew even before she said the first word to him that she was forever his prisoner. There was no escaping.
She took a deep breath. But that didn't mean there was no winning. It didn't mean she couldn't fight. Whatever he planned for her, she was obviously important now. There was a horrible gnawing fear in the back of her mind that it could only be bad that she was important to him, but she pushed it away. She was Hermione Granger. She would figure it out.
"Okay," she whispered. "You can let them go. I will do as you say."
He didn't hesitate for a second. As soon as she said okay, he dropped the spell. A couple of feet away, her four friends fell to the ground, gasping for air. They were safe. For now.
"I knew you'd come around. Shall we?" The smile was back on his face, as disgustingly alien as the first time around.
Determined, she shook her head. "No. Not yet. You cannot expect me to leave just like that. I need time. Twelve hours. Give me twelve hours, then you can come and get me."
"You're in no position to make demands, little witch."
She wetted her lips, but held his flaming gaze. "You want me to come willingly and I will. I know very well that there is not a place on earth where I could hide from you. Wherever I could flee to, you would find me. I will not run away because I know it is pointless. I just want time to say goodbye to my friends and pack my things. From the look of things, I might never see them again. Don't you think I deserve a little grace?"
For the longest time, he simply stared at her. Nothing in his face gave away what he was thinking, but Hermione was sure that he was raging on the inside. Nobody made demands of the Dark Lord. Especially not some muggleborn witch. She half expected him to deny her the request, it was only a hopeful plea, not something she actually thought would work.
"My sweet witch. You know I cannot deny you when you plead your case so sensibly." Voldemort's voice was the softest purr as he stepped closer to her. "Twelve hours. Then I will be back. Wherever you are, I will collect you. But I hope you are exactly here. Otherwise, I might have to make your stay with me a little less comfortable than you deserve."
"You're … you're letting me go?" Despite her hope and determination, she was shocked how easy it was to persuade him.
"I'm not letting you go. I'm giving you what you asked for." His indulgent smile suddenly turned sinister. "And I think I will leave you with a little gift. Just so you don't forget who owns you."
With that, he closed his hand around her throat and pulled her flush against his body. Before she realised what was happening, he forced her head back and capture her lips with his. Instinctively, she brought her hands up to push him away, but the second she hit his chest, he pushed his magic against hers.
Instead of a complaint, a groan fell from her lips, hungrily swallowed by his mouth. Fisting her hands into his billowing robes, she allowed him to slip his tongue into her mouth. Her heart beat fast while the world around her seemed to screech to a halt.
With a smirk, he let go of her and stepped back. She was still catching her breath as he gestured his Death Eaters to follow him. With a dramatic flourish, he vanished into thin air, and his followers with him.
Cursing, Hermione rubbed the back of her hand over her lips. She had hoped, no, prayed that her reaction to him was just because she was in the body of Bellatrix Lestrange back then.
But it seemed not to be the case. Whatever this was, she had to get to the bottom of it, and quick, if she wanted to stand any chance of surviving this.
Still breathing heavily, she turned to face her friends, who were finally able to move again. With uncertain steps, they ran to her, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"You're safe," Ron wheezed, burying his face in her wild hair. "That was bloody scary."
She could feel Harry nod against her back, while he seemed unwilling to let go of her as well. It was Bill, who let go first, who posed the question Hermione was sure they all had. "What exactly did happen just now?"
She swallowed. None of them would understand what happened. She didn't understand it herself, really. Why did she react to Voldemort of all people like that? What strange, twisted hold did he have over her that the lightest touch of his magic brought her to her knees? She would not say anything about that.
Carefully, she extracted herself from Ron's and Harry's embrace. "I don't have much time. Fleur, can you inform the Order that we need them here, all of them, if possible? And if anyone could bring books on magical auras, that would be helpful."
"Slow down, Mione," Harry interjected. "What is going on?"
She forced a smile on her lips. "Let's head back into the cottage for now, okay? Once everyone is there, I will tell you as much as I can. But again, I don't have much time."
"What do you mean, you don't have much time?" Bill sounded alert, as if he sensed some of the danger that she was in.
"Fleur, please?" Hermione instead said to the other women.
With a sigh, Fleur pressed a quick kiss on Bill's cheek, then she disapparated. Hermione hoped that it would not take too long to gather everyone.
Still clinging to the smile, she explained, "He will be back. You-Know-Who. He wants me, I don't know for what, but he has something planned. He will be back in twelve hours to collect me."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but she instantly raised her hand to shut him up. Then, with as much confidence as she could muster in the eye of her horrible future, she stated the inevitable.
"And I am going to go with him."