A/N: *drum roll* Here we are, ladies and gentlemen: the one you've all been waiting for!
*abruptly ends drum roll* Well, maybe not, but it's still an important chapter!
Please enjoy this one, as it will be a little while before another chapter pops up. I only have one more chapter finished and I don't like to update without at least two in reserve (just in case my plot bunnies hop away), so I'm cutting it close as it is, but I did promise an update by the end of the week and I intend to follow through.
Happy reading!
~*~
The soft, mossy ground muffled the slap of tennis shoes as Hermione ran through the Forbidden Forest, brushing branches out of her way with one hand and keeping a firm grip on her wand with the other. She had rarely run so hard in her life, but she was scared now, scared that she had wasted too much time standing uselessly while she struggled to listen to both her mind and her heart. What if Harry had already reached the center of the woods? What if Voldemort was back at the castle now, wreaking havoc without the threat of the Boy-Who-Lived standing in his way?
She shook her head at herself as she slowed her pace. There was no point in wondering about that now. She had almost reached the middle of the Forest, and if Voldemort was waiting there, so be it. If he wasn't, well, she would just have to haul her rear end back to Hogwarts before she could do the job that she had set out to do. The only difference was a few minutes of an evil man's life.
She stopped short when she heard the sound of muffled voices from up ahead. After letting out a soft sigh of relief, she began to walk carefully, avoiding any loose twigs or fallen branches in her path. The last thing she wanted to do was let Voldemort know that he had company.
It took a minute or two, but she finally managed to creep up behind a tree just a few yards away from the spot where Harry and Voldemort stood facing each other while a few Death Eaters looked on. She had to cover her mouth to stop a quiet sob when she saw Harry. It was good to see him alive once more, but she knew that it meant that she would have to be present for the last thing she would ever have wanted to see.
"It appears I was mistaken," Voldemort murmured in his quiet, oddly refined voice, circling around Harry as though inspecting him. "I was sure that you would not come alone as I had requested."
"Why's that?" Harry asked, and Hermione was surprised that his voice remained steady. He shifted something around almost imperceptibly in his hands and looked directly at Voldemort with an expression of calm interest.
"Well, because you never do anything on your own, of course," Voldemort replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You've allowed yourself to become dependent on others for your protection, haven't you? You must be utterly useless in a proper wizard's duel."
"We've duelled once before, I remember," Harry said lightly.
Voldemort waved a hand as he continued to circle, his long, black robes giving Hermione the impression that he was gliding instead of walking. "And even then, you were unable to face me on your own, seeking cover behind the spirits of those braver than yourself." He stopped in front of Harry and looked at him with a cruel grin. "But Mummy and Daddy aren't here now, are they, boy?"
Snickers spread throughout the group and the two giants who sat on the outskirts of the circle of firelight looked at each other to share a rather stupid grin. Hermione noticed that Narcissa didn't laugh, choosing instead to turn and hide her unsmiling face from her Lord.
Harry didn't respond, merely rolling the same unknown object around in one hand as he kept his gaze level with Voldemort's. The two stood facing each other for a moment more before Voldemort, apparently realizing that his jab about Harry's parents was not going to get a rise out of him, took a step back and smoothly drew the Elder Wand from his sleeve with one long-fingered hand. There was a beat of silence before that grin spread across his face again.
"What are you waiting for? Draw your wand."
There were more snickers. Fenrir Greyback gave Harry a rude backward shove, causing whatever it was that he had been holding to slip from his grasp and roll away from him on the beaten earth. The laughter intensified as Greyback stepped back with a smug grin on his doglike face, but Harry seemed to ignore it as he calmly reached into his pocket for his wand and held it in front of him, assuming a perfect duelling stance. Voldemort raised his eyebrows.
"Really?" he murmured. "Without anyone to shield you?"
"Just me," Harry replied.
There was an intense moment of silence as Voldemort frowned and lowered his wand. Hermione watched as Harry's expression abruptly went completely blank and realized that he was blocking Voldemort's access to his mind.
He's finally learned Occlumency.
The thought brought on an absurd wave of pride and emotion. Her eyes promptly filled up again and she closed them to block the tears that threatened to fall. It wouldn't do her any good to start sniffling.
She never saw Fenrir until he had her by the collar of her shirt. She tried to fight, even managed to press her wand to his chest, but received a swift fist to the face for her efforts before she could complete her nonverbal Relashio. She saw stars as he grabbed her wand from her hand and tossed it into the clearing.
"He lies!" Greyback cried triumphantly as he dragged her out into the flickering firelight. Voldemort's cruel smile returned.
"Of course, his little Mudblood," he said softly. "Excellent work, Fenrir." He raised his wand again and took a step toward the young woman who struggled against Greyback's grip. "Perhaps I will let you have a bite or two when I've finished with her."
Greyback smiled ferociously as he lifted Hermione off the ground and turned her from side to side, inspecting her. She stopped struggling against him and instead began to pull at her collar, which was cutting off her air supply as it dug into her neck. Her gaze fell on Harry, who stood just a few feet away, unable to do anything to stop Fenrir or Voldemort. He looked helplessly back at her.
"Thank you, my Lord," Fenrir murmured, apparently finding his prize satisfactory despite the rapidly spreading bruise on her face.
"Put her down, you fool. You're strangling her," Voldemort hissed. Greyback obeyed and set Hermione back on her feet, securing both of her wrists in one massive hand. Voldemort stepped back towards Harry with that grin plastered on his face again.
"Well, well," he said. "I must admit, it was a fairly good plan, distracting me by pretending to duel while your friend here waited for the right moment to kill me." He spat the word "friend" as if it tasted foul to him. "However," he continued, "it was also rather cowardly, don't you think?" He waited only a moment, then added, "I don't much care for cowards. Perhaps this will toughen you up."
Hermione clamped her jaw shut on a fearful gasp as Voldemort turned and approached her until they were almost toe-to-toe.
"I'm going to enjoy this, little Mudblood," he murmured as he pressed the Elder Wand to her heart.
"Don't," Harry's voice said from behind him.
Voldemort chuckled, his red eyes twinkling with a malevolent sort of glee. "Why shouldn't I?"
"I'll give myself up."
Hermione saw those crimson eyes blink in surprised before Voldemort carefully rearranged his expression into one of calm interest and turned to face Harry again. It was a good plan, she thought, pretending to "give himself up" to save her when he had really intended to go without a fight all along.
"That's a very interesting proposition," he said. "Why?"
"She's done nothing wrong. She's nothing to you," Harry replied.
Either the note of desperation in his voice wasn't completely fake, or the boy deserved an Oscar, Hermione thought vaguely, her vision hazing a little with pain. Fenrir had tightened his grip on her, having a bit of cruel fun while his master was distracted, and she was almost sure that she could feel her bones beginning to give as he crushed her wrists together.
"I'm the one you want," Harry continued. "You can have me without a fight if you'll just let her go."
"Is that so?"
"You have my word."
Voldemort laughed again. "The word of a half-blooded Muggle lover? Laughable. But I'll play along. Bella," he said, turning to the black-haired woman who stood closest to the fire, "take his wand. We'll see how sincere he is without it."
"With pleasure, my Lord," Bellatrix nearly purred as she rose. Hermione watched surprise flicker across her pale face when Harry handed over his wand without a peep. The two stood looking at each other for only a moment before Bellatrix's face twisted into a sneer.
"Idiot boy!" she hissed. Without warning, her hand swung up and there was a sharp, echoing crack as her palm connected with his cheek. Hermione almost sobbed with relief when the shock caused Fenrir to loosen his hold on her.
When Bellatrix's hand dropped away, Harry's face sported a red blotch and four thin scratches. He merely glanced at her and then looked away.
"Bellatrix!" Voldemort barked. She backed off instantly, her expression shifting back to one of worshipful fascination as she stepped towards her master and bowed slightly.
"Forgive me," she murmured as she passed the wand to him. When he said nothing, she backed away and returned to her position by the fire.
"Bellatrix does have a point," Voldemort said conversationally, casually twirling Harry's wand between his fingers. "You really are no more intelligent than your late father, boy. He thought that he could hold me off without a wand, save you and your worthless mother without a single weapon," he said, eliciting more snickers from the Death Eaters, "and you…" He paused to shake his head, chuckling as he calmly slipped Harry's wand up his sleeve. "You honestly believed that I would spare a Mudblood's life in exchange for yours…"
He turned back to Hermione, trailed a finger down her bruised cheek.
"…when I could just as easily take both."
"No."
Voldemort smiled. "Of course. You see, Harry, what both you and your father failed to realize is…" He paused again as he pressed his wand against Hermione's heart once more. "Well, it's quite simple, really." He turned his head a little to look straight at Harry. "I'm a very bad man."
There must have been something in his expression that Hermione could not see, because it had Harry lunging forward, crying, "No!"
Voldemort's chuckles swelled to a bone-chilling laugh as he gleefully shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"
Harry could only stand and watch as the life winked out of his best friend's eyes.
~*~
A/N 2: *shocked gasp*
I actually really liked writing this chapter, and I would appreciate a few reviews about it, if you have the time. I would especially like to know what you think of Voldemort's character here. Is he OOC or okay? I'd love to hear from you, whether your opinions are good or bad!
Until next time,
-Kelsey