A/N: Sorry for the remarkably long wait! My computer got a virus, and I wasn't able to fix the problem until I returned home from university (yesterday). My beta has finals and then will be in Europe for two weeks, so it may be a little while before I get the next chapter out, so sorry for that as well! Also, thank you for the reviews; I promise I'll get around to replying to them all soon! Hope you all enjoy the chapter.
Chapter 2-Feelings of Emptiness
They say, "Be brave, there's a right way and a wrong way."
This pain won't last forever; this pain won't last forever.
Two More Years by Bloc Party
They continued on that way for weeks; Hermione came to visit him twice a day, or sometimes more, bringing food and comfortable chairs. During the times that Hermione was absent, Harry concentrated all his efforts on escaping.
It was proving to be even more helpless than he had first thought.
Just last night, or perhaps early morning, he had finally escaped his chains, the magical drain leaving him panting on the floor. Before he could begin working on the bars of his cell door, however, the door to the dungeons swung open and rapid footsteps echoed down the hall.
To say he was sorely disappointed to see Wormtail's grimy face peering through his bars would have been a severe understatement.
Wormtail said nothing, merely scampered into Harry's cell after fumbling around with his wand to unlock the door and then fumbling again when he replaced the chains around Harry's body.
"What are you doing here?" Harry rasped.
The man who had betrayed his parents ignored him, scurrying out of the cell and closing the door behind him.
"Where's-the normal person who comes?"
"The Dark Lord has far more use for Granger outside of being your guard," Wormtail squeaked before departing, leaving Harry rather unsettled and slightly nauseous.
What, exactly, was that comment supposed to mean?
He was not sure how much time had passed since then, but judging from the full restoration of his magical reserves, it had been several hours. His eyes were beginning to fell heavy, his head starting to pound. He only slept when exhaustion forced him to, and even then the sleep provided little rest.
"I heard you made progress last night."
Harry jerked out of his daze, snapping his eyes open. Hermione smiled ruefully from her standard conjured chair. "Sorry to startle you. I thought you'd like some breakfast though."
He rolled his shoulders and moved his neck from side to side before getting up to sit down across from her and reach for his breakfast.
"Well?" She questioned, rather impatiently. "How'd you manage to get out of those chains? I made the charm myself, you know."
"Of course you did," he muttered in between bites. "That's why they were so damn impossible to get off."
"Not impossible it seems, since you managed it. I just want to know how."
Harry smirked. He knew Hermione only wanted to know in order to improve her work, not to find out his secrets for Voldemort. It was just the way she was.
She pouted. It was an expression Harry had not yet seen, and he found he enjoyed it immensely. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
"I have to keep a few secrets of my own."
"Harry! I need to learn!"
Harry snorted. "That whole learning thing seems to cause more problems for you than it's worth."
She rolled her eyes.
"Fine. I'll tell you, but you have to answer a question-no two questions for me."
"You drive a hard bargain," she said with a smile. "But ask away."
"First off, what were you doing last night?"
Her brow furrowed. "What?"
"It's just, Wormtail came down here when I got out-I thought you would have." He shifted in his seat.
"Ah." She paused. "I was in the middle of something."
Harry's face scrunched up. An unbidden image flashed through his mind.
"Oh!" She laughed. "No! Not that, Harry!"
He let out a sigh of relief.
"You thought the Dark Lord and I-" She laughed again. "Oh, Harry."
"What was I supposed to think-you being `in the middle of something' at Merlin knows what time and then Wormtail saying-never mind," he grumbled, unsure why he was doing so.
Hermione observed him for a moment, the laughter long gone from her face. "I've never met anyone like you, Harry. I have a hard time understanding you."
"Me?" He sputtered. "You! I've never met a person more full of contradictions!"
"Yes, well-" She trailed off, looking rather wistful. "Actually, to answer your question, I was working on your potion last night."
"See! There! One moment you're laughing with me and I the next you're updating me the progress of the potion you're brewing that will ultimately kill me!"
"I could have been finished over a week ago," she said, an odd light in her eyes.
"What?"
"I don't want to finish it," she admitted. "It's probably the best potion work I've ever done and I don't want to finish it."
"Hermione-"
She looked down, pained. "I've known you for less than two months. You shouldn't-" She raised her eyes to meet his, a torrent of emotions swirling through them. "-You shouldn't affect me so much."
Harry swallowed heavily. "Hermione-"
Her head suddenly snapped up; she was on her feet more quickly than his mind could process.
"Fuck!" She swore violently. "Dammit!"
She gripped his tattered shirt and pulled him to his feet, banishing both their chairs quickly.
"Harry, I'm so sorry-so sorry!" Her eyes darted around hastily.
"Hermione, what-"
Before he could finish, she had removed one of her sai from her belt underneath her robes and plunged it into his shoulder. He screamed in pain and fell back into the wall. Hermione's hand gripped the handle of the blade, holding it steady. Her eyes roamed his face, regret coursing through them.
I'm sorry, Harry.
He felt her voice through the pain, but only in his mind.
"Hermione, my dear. You know I keep all my loyal followers, aside from yourself, away from here to prevent exactly this sort of thing."
Hermione's face, only seconds ago filled with compassion, quickly morphed into a blank slate. She ripped the blade from his shoulder viciously, letting him slide to the floor as she turned to face Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange.
"I'm sorry, my Lord. I have need of his blood for the ritual. I will heal him-his body will not be tarnished in any way, I assure you."
The wracking tremors that shook his body caused his head to bang on the floor forcefully; he fought to retain consciousness.
"Excuse me, my Lord." The seizure stopped, leaving him shaking and retching on the ground. "I nearly forgot about the poison on the blade."
"I would exercise more caution. You know very well the need I have for the boy."
"Forgive me, my Lord." Harry's eyes cracked open to see Hermione kneeling before Voldemort. "I only wish to do your will."
"Rise, child. I have come here for a purpose. When will my potion be ready? I have waited long."
"I apologize for the wait, my Lord, but it will be ready tonight. I was just collecting the last ingredient, the blood of the host."
"Excellent." Voldemort hissed. "You have pleased me, Hermione. Bellatrix, make preparations for the ritual; it will occur tonight."
"Very well, my Lord."
"I expect the potion to be ready by midnight."
"I understand, my Lord. I will bring it and the boy to the ritual chamber at that time."
"Leave the boy-Wormtail will come collect him. You must ready yourself for your part in the ritual."
"Yes, my Lord."
"I will leave you to your preparations."
"Thank you, my Lord."
"Come, Bella. We have much to do."
As soon as the door to the dungeon slammed, Hermione was kneeling next to him on the floor, running a hand over his face, wiping his fringe from his forehead.
"Merlin, Harry. I-I'm sorry."
He groaned, rolling over onto his back. "`Sokay, `Mio."
He heard her mutter a charm and a pleasant warmth spread throughout his body, eliminating enough of the pain to be able to sit up, with Hermione's help. She touched his face again, running her thumb down his cheek. He closed his eyes and exhaled heavily.
"I'm going to die tonight."
"Yes," she whispered. "You are."
He opened his eyes to stare at her-his green eyes piecing into her brown ones.
"Help me," he pleaded softly.
"Harry, I-"
He reached out to cup her face. "Hermione, help me."
She held his gaze for a moment longer until she pulled away and stood. "I can't. I'm sorry, Harry, but no one can help you now."
"You could." He used the wall to shakily stand. "You could!"
"I'm sorry."
"Stop saying you're sorry and help me get out of here! Dammit, Hermione!"
She moved away from him towards the door.
"I need you!" He called desperately, his body slumping further against the wall. "Don't leave me like this."
Her back stiffened, but she did not move to face him.
"Hermione. Please."
She spun around, crossed the cell in three quick steps, gripped his face and pressed her lips to his. Harry nearly fell down to the floor once again; a flood of warmth flushed through him.
It was gone just as quickly, and before he could fully regain his bearings, Hermione was outside his cell, locking him in.
"I'll miss you, Harry. I really will."
He shuffled to the front of the cell, clenching his jaw to fight back the stinging in his eyes.
"Why won't you help me?"
She ignored his question, moving to leave before she stopped again, just past his cell. "You never asked me your second question."
He gaped at her for a moment before he remembered what she was referring to.
"How do you live with yourself?" His question was innocent, without malice.
"I don't," she whispered. "Live, that is. I don't live. Not really." She paused. "How did you get out of your chains?"
"I gave it everything I had."
A ghost of a smile formed on her face. "Yes, that's what I suspected." The smile disappeared; the blank mask took its place. "Goodbye, Harry."
And she was gone.
Harry could only slide to the floor.
He wondered what it would feel like-having a piece of Voldemort's soul ripped from his forehead. He rubbed the scar. Undoubtedly painful, but supposedly it wouldn't kill him. He supposed Voldemort would do that shortly afterward.
He wondered idly if Hermione would cry, later in her room when no one was watching.
He imagined she would, though he could not picture her doing so. She seemed too strong to ever do such a thing-seemed to have too much control to allow herself to do so. If she did cry, she would probably rage about while doing so. He remembered her telling him about how her magic would flare to life when she was angry, leaving things strewn about and windows shattered.
Maybe she would wreck her room for him.
He took a deep breath and allowed his eyes to roam around the cell, eventually landing on the cell door. He could either expend his energy now, trying to get through the wards on the door, or wait until later when he would be surrounded by Voldemort and all his Death Eaters.
He sighed and stood, thankful for the absence of the chains. Then he set to work.
Wormtail found him ten hours later, through ten of the eleven wards on the door and utterly drained of power.
He placed Harry in a full body bind and levitated him out of the dungeons and down the winding corridors of the massive castle. Harry tried to memorize the many twists and turns and look for any sign of exit, but it was useless; after passing through at least ten different hallways Harry lost track.
After perhaps fifteen minutes, Wormtail finally stopped at small wooden door hidden in a dark corner. He floated Harry through, following the slopping path deeper underneath the castle until it opened into a large circular room lit with decorative torches and various tapestries, all depicting some form of the dark arts-curses, creatures, and rituals, all involving massive amounts of blood.
Three figures observed him from the center of the room-Voldemort, seated on a high throne; Bellatrix, grinning evilly at him; and Hermione, her face expressionless. Wormtail pulled him toward them, dropping him directly at the feet of Voldemort. Nagini slithered around the throne, eyeing his prone form.
"Wormtail," Voldemort hissed. "Find your place."
"Y-yes, my Lord."
"Hermione, your arm."
"Yes, my Lord."
Voldemort pulled up the sleeve of her blood red robe, revealing the Dark Mark. He pressed a bony, white finger to the mark, creating a hissing noise; Hermione did not flinch.
It only took a moment before the sound of multiple apparations hit his ears. Figures in black surrounded him on all sides. His eyes sought out Hermione once again, but she avoided his gaze, staring straight ahead.
"My loyal Death Eaters! You have heard the rumors, and now you see them to be true!" He pointed to Harry's frozen figure. "The Dark Lord Voldemort brings the so-called Boy-Who-Lived before you on this very occasion!"
The Death Eaters cheered.
"Silence! Today you will witness this boy, who many of you traitorously believed had the power to defeat me, die. You see now that nothing stands in the way of my rise to power!" He nodded to Hermione.
She approached Harry and jerked his head up from the ground by his hair, pulling a small vial from her robes and uncorking it with her thumb.
Her skin felt cold, her eyes hard without feeling.
She poured the contents of the vial into his throat. He struggled against the body bind, but was unable to cough the fiery liquid back up. Hermione dropped his head back on the ground unceremoniously and moved back to her place at Voldemort's side. Nagini slithered from her spot at Voldemort's feet to Hermione's leg, winding around her body until she was completely wrapped around Hermione's upper arm.
He felt the potion work through his veins, leaving behind a scorching trail. The heat focused on his scar, the pain building.
It hit him rather forcefully that he was about to die.
The pain in his forehead increased to the point of obscuring his vision. He screamed, unable to hold back, despite the grip his teeth held on his lower lip.
An explosion went off inside his head, a pain he had never felt before.
And the world faded to white.
Notes:
Harry has been a prisoner of Voldemort for nearly two months at this point.
Hermione and Voldemort are definitely not sleeping together… ew. Though I thought it humorous that Harry think so and act a tad jealous. Heh. Hermione sees Voldemort as a very twisted father figure, if anything-in her mind, he helped in get over the shock that her parents' deaths brought, by immersing her more fully in the Dark Arts.
Hermione's crazy powerful, but for good reason. Look at Hermione in canon-she's pretty damn clever and powerful, even when she has Harry and Ron to distract her. In this Universe, she had no friends, so in school, studying and trying to prove herself was all she did, and then after she joined Voldemort, she concentrated all of her efforts on becoming even more powerful. All that intensive studying and practice is going to have results.
As for desperate!Harry: he's about to die here, so he's trying everything he can.
I've never written a cliff-hanger before, but now I realize why author's use them so often… they're rather fun. ^^
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