Chapter Text
A Harry Potter Story
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Finally Alone
By Miracles79
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“They’re here! Quickly, after them!”
Turning to the sound of the voice, Hermione paused mid-flight and released a torrent of energy from her wand. “Stupefy!”
Not even waiting to see if her spell had found its mark, Hermione sprinted towards Harry and Ron, passing them both before dragging them behind a bookshelf. The sounds of a body crashing against nearby furniture lost to her as she kneeled down and whispered to her boys, “We have to get out of here. There will be more coming.”
“But where? Hermione, none of us know-”
“I know, that’s why we have to keep moving. No matter what, just keep moving until we find it.”
“Hermione –“
“Listen to me,” Hermione growled, forcing the boys to cease their interruptions and instead gain their attentions. “No matter what happens, a stumble, a fall, you get back up and run, got it! Only fight if and when you have to, delay, stay in one place too long, and they will outnumber you. Do you understand?”
Nodding, Ron turned to glance down the hallway, absent of both death eaters and member of the Order of the Phoenix. “Well, if we are going to run, no time like the present. The coast is clear, we should go.”
“Okay, go!” Sprinting, Harry and Ron took the lead, Hermione falling behind, unused to physical activity to this extent.
For the first time in her life, Hermione regretted her lack of physical exercise, preferring a passage in a book to that of running endlessly around a frozen lake, early in the chilly morning, ala Ginny. But, now, in the heat of the moment, with their lives on the line, she recognised her folly.
“Find the Potter boy! He does not leave here alive!”
Locating the voice nearby, the group paused and ran in the opposite direction. The sounds of footsteps following confirmed that they were now being actively hunted, as did the sounds of apparition nearby. Realising their predicament, Hermione forced her legs to move, the burn becoming increasingly unsettling.
Dodging a spell or two, Hermione screamed at the boys, “Move! Move! Move! Don’t look back, keep running!”
“He’s here! We’ve found him! Kill him!”
Reaching the door before the other two, Ron scanned the right and left walkway, “This way!”
Firing a few shots, in order to give the other two time to reach him, Ron sprinted down the right walkway, the other two following without question. Trusting luck, due to the absence of knowledge, the group turned this way and that. Spells careening off walls, framed pictures shattering with each hurried footfall.
They were lost, unsure of where to go, but adrenaline kept them going. The sounds of destruction that followed in their wake, a deadly reminder that even a secondary pause could spell the end. They had to keep going no matter what.
That was until they were met with a dead end.
“Shit!” Harry exclaimed, hands pressing against the wall in a thinly veiled hope that it would move. “We have to go back!”
“But we ca-“
Then, just as Ron was about to finish his sentence, a spell crashed against the floorboards besides their feet. The explosion sent the three spiralling. Harry crashed into a nearby bookshelf, Ron was sent skidding across the floor, and, Hermione, had the most unfortunate of landings.
Feeling the rail slip past her back, Hermione plunged to the lower level, her feet high in the air as she fell. Unaware of what was behind her, Hermione crashed against the upper portion of a bookshelf, unsettling it, as she then rolled and collided with the floor a someways down. Then, if that was not bad enough, the bookshelf too toppled, books falling on top of her.
Fortunately, the bookshelf only semi covered her, so Hermione, with some effort, pushed her way through the gap, ignoring the throbbing sensation emanating from her shoulder and the side of her head. The pain was unimaginable, and she staggered to her feet, her vision hazy. Moving her shoulder in order to check its rotation, the pain only intensified.
Feeling around the joint, Hermione theorized it was only bruised, the years of first aid training conducted by her father finally proving useful. Satisfied, Hermione felt for the pain on the side of her head but immediately retracted her hand when she saw the blood that coated it. This wasn’t good, that was a lot of blood, but without being able to see the damage Hermione could only speculate and now was not the time for that. Not when time now pressed on her, and the boys.
“Hermione!?” Harry called out, from above, reaching over the railing and squinting his eyes down below for signs of his friend.
Shaking her head, attempting to clear it of its foggy state, Hermione moved into a more visible spot, doing her best to appear unfazed as she looked up at her friend. “I’m here, Harry. I’m alright.”
“Oh my god, your head, Hermione,” Harry uttered, eyes widening at the sight.
“What?” Ron called, suddenly standing beside Harry to look down at her, concern written all over his features. “Hermione, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, trust me, it looks worse than it actually is,” Hermione replied, scanning her surroundings for a way up, or, at least a way out. “You guys alright?”
Scoffing, Ron looked at Harry in bewilderment, “Even now, she worries about us.”
“…”
“We’re okay, Hermione,” Harry continues, focusing on the task at hand. “That explosion buried the death eaters behind us.”
“Are you stuck? Is there any way out?”
“Yeah. That explosion took down one of the walls, seems to lead to another room.”
Relieved, Hermione breathed out a huge sigh of relief.
Further behind Harry, Hermione heard Ron’s voice, followed by the crashing of debris. “Just wait there, Hermione, we’ll find something and pull you up.”
“There isn’t time.”
“What?” In disbelief, Ron appeared beside Harry, once more.
“Remember what I said before, ‘delay, or, stay in one place too long, and they will outnumber you!’ You have to move, no matter what!”
“We can’t just leave you here!”
“Harry, you have to,” Hermione called, eyes glancing around, evaluating her own escape options. “I’ll find my way to you again, I promise. But you can’t delay. You have to move. You of all people should know this, Harry.”
“Screw that, Harry help me, there has to be something here.”
Ignoring Ron’s words, Harry looked down at Hermione, there eyes never leaving each other. Harry could see it, Hermione was putting him above herself, yet again, and he knew why. They had talked about this before, many a time, a conversation that Harry hated more than anything.
She had said it herself, in the grand scheme of things, Harry’s life was more important than theirs. He had a connection to the greatest evil this world had ever seen, a connection that could be used to finally defeat him. She and Ron were expendable, only Harry mattered. If the world was to be rid of this great evil, then Harry had to live, even at the cost of those he loved.
“Harry, what the fuck are you doing? Help me” Ron shouted, pacing towards him before he grabbed him by the shoulder.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw it. The dark shadowy figure moving silently behind the pair, her two boys unaware of its presence, too busy bickering about something or other. No, this couldn’t happen, wouldn’t happen, under her watch.
Pulling out her wand, Hermione pointed it above and screamed, “Stupefy!”
The boys, drawn to the proclamation, turned towards her, just in time to feel the spell brush past their faces. A gargled gasp soon followed, both thrown by its near proximity. Turning both watched as the cloaked death eater fell backwards, the knife they had held above their head clattering against the ground.
In astonishment, Harry and Ron turned towards their saviour, “How… I didn’t even hear him coming?”
“Because they sensed opportunity, because you delayed,” Hermione exclaimed, lowering her wand and turning towards her best friend, begging him to see reason. “Harry, please, you are the one they want. Just you.”
“…”
“We have to keep you safe. You can’t keep taking these risks. To remain for my sake and be an easy target. You have to be on the move, to find a way out of this mess. No matter what, you have to get out of here.”
“… Hermione,” Harry responded, looking forlorn.
“This isn’t goodbye, Harry, do you really think so little of me,” Hermione replied, attempting a different tactic to get him moving.
“What? No, I never said…”
“I’ll find my own way out of here, and see you soon, okay? You trust me, don’t you, Harry?”
Taken a back, Harry replied, “Of course, I do.”
“Well, then get moving. Ron, keep him safe, okay, and yourself too.”
“Of course, I always do. Stay safe, Hermione.”
“Stay safe,” Harry parroted, moving away from the rail and following Ron’s retreating figure.
“Good, I’ll see you up ahead,” Having said what she needed to say, Hermione lifted her wand and moved towards the lone corridor on the opposite side of the room. Carefully stepping over both debris and discarded books that now littered the floor. It wouldn’t help to sprain her ankle this early in her escape.
She wasn’t some damsel in distress after all. She was proficient at defence against the dark arts, perhaps not to the extent of Harry (Who admittedly had some help from a certain dark lord) but she was a very close second. And so, with her eyes trained on the darkness, and her steps light and calculated, Hermione moved through the corridor.
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Leaving the corridor, Hermione entered a massive Hall, the interior stretching as far as the eye could see. To her left and right, Hermione observed rows upon rows of ornaments, vials, and glass balls. She had a suspicion of what they were, having read about the misgivings and goings on in the Ministry of Magic. But, now was not the time to be concerned of such things, not when death eaters prowled the nearby vicinity.
Walking slowly, in order to muffle the sounds of her footfalls, Hermione looked above the bookshelf’s. The room seemed to go on forever, not an end in sight. The bookshelf’s towered over her, like trees in a forest. No sound could be heard as she approached the end of the aisle, not from within or outside this room.
No cries of battle, screams of anguish… nothing. Just the deathly silence. It left her on tenterhooks, a chill creeping up her spine with each step she took towards the darkness. Once within, Hermione did not dare draw her light, for it would not only reveal her location for everyone to see but delay her utterance of a defensive or offensive spell. So, instead she trusted her heightened senses, eyes scanning this way and that, along with her wand.
(Step… Step… Step…)
Breathing shallow, ears perked to the slightest noise, Hermione searched for the nearby presence, hiding somewhere within the darkness. She had heard not a sound, nor seen even a shadow move beyond her eye line. Yet, she was certain that someone else was in here with her.
(Step… Step… Step)
A part of her wanted to call out, to at least have this cat and mouse game be over with. Someone else held all the cards, was controlling this moment, and Hermione hated losing that control. But she stayed silent, willing the figure to make a mistake, or for her suspicion to be proven unfounded. A simple flicker of anxiety, creeping into her usual steadfast demeanor.
(Step… Step… Step)
“…”
“… HaHAhAahAHAahHa!”
The sudden laughter, echoing throughout the halls, climbing into every crevice it could find, sent an unmistakable chill down her spine. She knew that laugh. Had heard it many, many times before.
Only one woman could have this affect on her…
… Bellatrix Lestrange.
“…”
“HaHAAHa… Well, what do we have here?” Bellatrix called, the voice coming from numerous place yet no places all at the same time. “Well, look at you. All alone, are we?”
Turning her wand this way and that, accidently bumping into a bookshelf, sending ornaments crashing down around her feet, Hermione scanned the vicinity. “W-Where are you?”
“Where I’ve always been, little one. Now, I know where you are, but where are those friends of yours? Don’t tell me they ditched you to fend for themselves.”
“Of course not,” Hermione replied, her unoccupied hand reaching behind her to feel the contours of the bookshelf behind, ensuring she followed the path while her back was covered. “I told them to leave. They’re already long gone.”
“We’ll see about that.”
A sudden noise echoed from her right; Hermione tuned her ears to locate and identify the sound rhythmically heightening and now pounding in her head. A distinct sound, one of someone tapping against metal, a wand most likely, meant to alarm and intimidate. But Hermione did not falter, merely felt her way through the darkness, her wand outstretched towards the noise.
“I wonder what you’ll do, when we find and capture Potter.”
Gritting her teeth, Hermione turned to face the location of the voice, it did not issue forth from the place the tapping was coming from. The tapping persisted still, Hermione wondering whether she should follow the sound, or where the voice had issued from. Making up her mind, Hermione followed the tapping.
“The Dark Lord will have no use for someone like you, a mud-blood, of little renown. The Weasel, he has pure blood, young enough to understand his folly. But, you and the Potter boy, will never see the day of our Lords rule.”
“Lord Voldermort will never rule. He lost to a child, and that child’s older self will see the job done. There will be no reign.”
“You dare speak the Lord’s name, you filthy wretch. You have no right it.”
Smiling, recognising the irritation in her voice, Hermione retorted. “I speak it as I do not fear him, like you. He is just a simple man. Powerful, but not a god like you would believe.”
“That’s right, he is no god,” Bellatrix murmured, voice trailing upon each utterance. “He is far more.”
“…”
“The Dark Lord will regain his power and, when he does, the Potter boy will die for his transgressions. Your act of altruism will not save him.”
“… And how would you know my actions are one of altruism?”
“Because I’ve been watching you,” Bellatrix replied, with a childlike glee. “I saw you, watched as you fell, as you told the boys to run, to leave you in order to save their lives. A valiant act, but one that will prove to be without reward. But do not fear for their safety now, your fate… Will be worse, much, much worse.”
Hearing the voice draw near, the shapes of things around her moving to circle and outmaneuver her, Hermione stilled. She had nowhere to go. Bellatrix had her cornered, had had her cornered since the very moment they stepped into this place of mysteries.
She had been played, Bellatrix had played her, and, now, this moment was no longer the hunt. This moment was swatting at prey, watching it cower, flinch and dance to her tune. The Dark Lord had instructed Bellatrix to hunt them down and… Wait...
Pausing, Hermione suddenly realised something. “Why are you here?”
“Excuse me?”
“You are the Dark Lord’s most valuable resource, yet you are here,” Hermione replied, confused. “The Dark Lord greatly favours Harry over me. He would want you to capture and detain him, above all else. Yet, you’re here.”
“…”
“Why?”
“My, for the supposed smartest witch of her age, you’re not very bright, are you?” Bellatrix chuckled, fixing the young woman with a glare she could not see, yet the latter felt penetrate her very core. “Even now, you look like nothing more than a scared and frightened little girl.”
“Yet I don’t, and you know it,” Hermione chided, scanning the darkness. “You are merely deflecting. Why are you here and not hunting Harry? He has not been captured, you would have said so already, gloated even. Which means you are here for a different reason, why?”
“Do you really wish to know?”
“…”
“Do you really not know?”
Hearing the sounds of footsteps approaching, coming from every corner, Hermione steadied herself, preparing to counter whatever the madwoman had planned. She only had one chance, Bellatrix was in control, but Hermione could best her. All it would take is one moment, one failure of deception, and Hermione would turn the tide.
Pressing her back against the object behind her, ignoring the cloak that fell to rest around her shoulders, Hermione’s eyes scanned the vicinity. There was only direction Bellatrix could come from now; she had narrowed the point of attack. She would see her any moment… Any moment…
It was only when the sound of giggling emerged from behind her, the feel of the cloak moving in tandem with said sounds of laughter, that Hermione froze.
“The boy does not interest me,” Bellatrix whispered, leaning so that her breath ghosted Hermione’s ear. “You do.”
Turning around, fully aware that Bellatrix had been the object she had pressed herself against, Hermione had little time to react when she felt a wand press against her clavicle before a green spark issued forth. Feeling her feet leave the surface, Hermione was flung backwards, her momentum only halting when she crashed into a nearby wall lined with books and ornaments.
The pain from before returned, the sight of her blood dripping against the floor now illuminated by Bellatrix’s wand. Steps echoed along with the pounding in her head, despite this Hermione’s eyes remained trained on the blood that dripped from her skull, her vision blurry and unfocused. The source of light wavered as she attempted to clear her head, her hands reaching out in order to help her to her feet.
It was only when she looked up at the source, that clarity finally returned.
…
There she was in all her deranged glory, her complexion as white as a sheet, with lips as red as the poisoned apple Snow White once bit from. A haunting and yet, to even the pickiest of suitors, the very embodiment of forbidden desire… The tormentor of her dreams.
One, Bellatrix LeStrange.
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End of Chapter 1
A/N: Long time no see. Hope everyone that has read it, enjoyed the chapter. I have 2 more to go, the final chapter being the culmination of the story / reward, hopefully. That is where the hot action will take place.
Taking this story in a slightly different direction to other stories of mine, as will be clear later on. Hermione will be more OC but that is due to events that made her so previously. Rather than her just suddenly having a personality change, Bellatrix will have influenced this over many years. No spoilers though, but it will really add to the final chapter.
Not sure what I will do after this story. As my interest in writing greatly diminished due to life, interests, etc. Hence the long, long absence. But I have some time now, and this story sort of came to me out of the blue and wouldn’t leave my head. Wanted to write it, to see if people still remembered or even cared about my work.
Would love to hear people’s opinion on it, but either way, thank you for reading and I wish you all the best.