Dead
"Bellatrix."
Lord Voldemort pushed back his chair and rose, striding around his desk as Bellatrix came walking into his office. He held out a glass of Champagne, already prepared for her, and smiled a little.
"Happy New Year," he said. Bellatrix seemed surprised as she took the flute and let Voldemort clink it against hers.
"Happy New Year, My Lord," she said softly. She sipped at her Champagne, and he said warmly to her,
"You and Hermione seem on better footing than you were before the unfortunate incident with the Cruciatus Curse. I feel confident sending you back to school, knowing that you and I will be good friends. We will, won't we? We'll be very good friends, you and I."
"So we will, My Lord," Bellatrix affirmed.
"Where did you tell your parents you were going tonight?" he asked her, for he'd said in a letter he'd instructed her to destroy that this meeting was secret. She opened her mouth and grinned a little.
"I told them I needed a few new supplies for the spring term at school. That I was off to Diagon Alley. Wanted to Apparate all on my own."
"Wonderful. Oh, I have a book I wanted to send back to school with you. Hold on a moment." Voldemort set down his glass of Champagne and moved behind Bellatrix's chair toward the bookshelves lining the walls of his office. He dragged his fingers over the spines and mused, "It's just something I thought you might want to… Obliviate."
He'd moved fluidly then, reaching with his right wand into his robes, twirling around to face Bellatrix, aiming his wand at her, and twisting the wand. She went wide-eyed, but then her eyes went very blank, and he felt her mind crack completely open. He felt magic surge between them, and he pawed through her memories. He felt for the sensation of her receiving a letter from Voldemort to come meet here today. He erased that memory entirely and replaced it with a genuine thought that she'd wanted to go to Diagon Alley to get some new makeup for school from Madam Primpernelle's.
Bellatrix slumped a little in her chair. Voldemort took a few steps towards her, his wand still aimed at her face, and he breathed slowly. He injected fresh thoughts into her mind, thinking them very, very clearly.
I ought to kill Albus Dumbledore. If I kill him, Lord Voldemort will be so impressed with me. He won't want that Granger girl anymore if I do this deed. Not even Grindelwald could defeat Albus Dumbledore. They'll all think I'm mad, and I'll probably go to prison, but it won't matter. None of it matters; all that matters is what he thinks of me. Someday, maybe he'll think enough of me to come and fetch me away and be friendly with me. I want to make him happy.
I'll kill Dumbledore on the first day back to school. I'll murder him right there in front of everybody. I'll get arrested, but Lord Voldemort will think I've been a very brave soldier. Yes. I am going to kill Albus Dumbledore.
Voldemort slowly lowered his wand and tucked it away. He turned back toward the bookshelf and took out a tome on Vampires. He walked back toward Bellatrix, who was shaking her head as if ridding herself of an obnoxious insect inside her skull. She slowly took the book from Voldemort and mumbled,
"Thank you, My Lord."
"It's about Vampires," he said plainly. "I thought you'd find it interesting."
"Quite so." Bellatrix sounded numb. Then she licked her lips and asked Voldemort carefully, "Is there anything you'd like me to do for you when I go back to school, sir? Anything I could do to make you happy?"
He narrowed his eyes at her and said, "If there's anything you can think of, Bellatrix, that you suppose would make me happy, then I think you ought to do it. After all, we are to be very good friends, you and I."
"Yes, sir." Bellatrix shut her eyes and looked a little nauseated. She was confused, Voldemort thought. He'd mucked with her mind. He guided her up by her elbow until she was standing, and he plucked her flute of Champagne from her hand. He set it down and said,
"Why don't you go to Madam Primpernelle's and get some makeup for school?"
"Yes. That's what… I feel like that's what I actually intended on doing today." Bellatrix scowled, looking for bemused than ever.
"Well, it is," Voldemort said, as though that were obvious. He pulled a few Galleons out of his trouser pocket and handed them over to Bellatrix. "A late Christmas gift, from me to you. My soldier. Get yourself something nice. Not that you need the money, of course, but… I want you to know that I care, Bella."
She seemed overwhelmed then. She took a shaking breath and whispered, "Yes, My Lord."
"Goodbye, Bellatrix," Voldemort said, and as she made her way out of his office, he reckoned he would not see her again for a very long time.
Voldemort sat at the piano and played Liszt. Un Sospiro. He'd learnt this piece at Wool's Orphanage as a ten-year-old boy, when he'd completely given up hope of being adopted and had dedicated himself to his academic and musical studies. He'd been a recluse from the other orphans, from the matrons. He'd spent hours sitting at the piano, his hands swirling up and down the keys in chaotic jumbling cascades. Now he sat in the violet parlour and played Un Sospiro again, fingers whirling and flying, dancing and wisping. He kissed the keys over and over again with his expert fingertips, and then suddenly he heard a voice say loudly from the doorway,
"Tom!"
He froze, yanking his hands from the piano and looking up to see Hermione marching into the parlour, holding up a copy of the Daily Prophet. Her face was one of utter shock, and she exclaimed,
"It's all gone… it's all… he's dead! And she's dead, Tom, and it's…"
"What are you on about?" He flew to his feet and rushed over to Hermione, grabbing the newspaper from her and reading the headline for himself.
ALBUS DUMBLEDORE MURDERED - KILLER SLAIN BY FELLOW STUDENT!
Voldemort's mouth fell open. He stared at Hermione for a moment, and Hermione's eyes welled heavily. She shook her head and whispered,
"Just read it, Tom."
He turned his eyes to the lead story and felt his heart start to thump in his chest with every passing word.
Albus Dumbledore, beloved and esteemed member of the community best known for defeating Gellert Grindelwald in a mighty duel in 1945, was murdered in cold blood in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on Friday. The young witch who aimed a Killing Curse at him was Bellatrix Black. Reports from witnesses indicate that Miss Black filed into the Great Hall with the other students for dinner, then quickly pulled out her wand and assassinated Dumbledore. She was swiftly tackled, and her wand was confiscated. However, a Gryffindor student, Gideon Prewett, dashed over to where Miss Black was being restrained, and he cast a Killing Curse of his own. Mr Prewett, a seventh-year student, was quickly subdued by Horace Slughorn, another teacher at Hogwarts. Once Ministry officials arrived, Mr Prewett was taken into custody and immediately charged with murder.
'It was absolute chaos,' said Lucius Malfoy, a Slytherin student. 'One moment we were all sitting down to eat. Then suddenly Bellatrix stood up and there was a bright flash of green light. Professor Dumbledore collapsed. People grabbed Bellatrix, Disarmed her, and then Gideon Prewett ran over in a complete rage. He was practically foaming at the mouth, screaming that Bellatrix was a killer and that she'd murdered Professor Dumbledore. Then he cast a Killing Curse that sent him rocketing backward.'
'There was death everywhere,' said Elisabet Harrington, a Hufflepuff student, speaking in tears to a reporter from the Daily Prophet. 'First Professor Dumbledore, then Bellatrix Black. We were all directed back to our dormitories, and we heard later that the Ministry came and took Gideon away. They say he'll go to Azkaban for killing Bellatrix.'
Horace Slughorn, who Stunned Gideon Prewett and teaches Potions at Hogwarts, said the entire staff were overwhelmed with shock and sorrow at the events and the aftermath. He said the death of a figure like Albus Dumbledore would 'shake the wizarding world to its very core,' whilst the murder of one Hogwarts student by another, even in retribution, was an 'unthinkable act.'
'It is absolutely terrifying to think that we may see one of our students in Azkaban because he foolishly and irrationally cast an Unforgivable - of the very worst sort - during a moment of chaotic violence,' Slughorn said. 'The death of Miss Black, even considering her reprehensible action against Albus Dumbledore, is something to be mourned.'
Right now, it is safe to say the entire wizarding community is in shock. Minister for Magic Eugenia Jenkins traveled to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry herself following the deaths to speak with staff and students. Talking to the Daily Prophet, the Minister said,
'We are all trying to process the events that transpired at Hogwarts School. One murder, committed by a young witch and snuffing out the life of a great wizard like Albus Dumbledore, would be tragedy enough. To compound that terrible violence with the revenge Mr Prewett took against Miss Black is unconscionable. The Ministry of Magic is working closely with the families of the affected - victims and perpetrators - to help come to grips with what has happened.'
In the meantime, Hogwarts grieves its beloved Professor Dumbledore. The wizarding world feels a gaping hole where Albus Dumbledore once dwelled. The loss of a young life in Miss Bellatrix Black, no matter her wicked actions, has also left a trail of grief. Gideon Prewett's trial with the Wizengamot is scheduled for this upcoming Wednesday at nine o'clock, where it is fully expected he will be sentenced to life in Azkaban Prison.
Voldemort lowered the newspaper and breathed quickly. He looked at Hermione and whispered,
"She's dead. Bellatrix is dead."
Hermione tipped her head and admitted, "I don't know what to think about it. I ought to feel a lot worse than I do."
"It can't be traced back to me," Voldemort pointed out. "They'll never know her motive. All they'll know is that Bellatrix Black acted like a madwoman, striking Dumbledore down in the Great Hall when everyone was meant to be eating dinner. The focus now will be on Gideon Prewett and how he recklessly, foolishly rushed at her to take her out."
Hermione shifted on her feet and stared at the ground. She let down her Occlumency shields, Voldemort could feel. He crept into her mind with Legilimency and pulled forth the memory she was pushing forward. Molly Weasley was sitting at a table with Hermione, explaining that her brothers Gideon and Fabian had always been rash, unconcerned, wild. They'd gotten into so much trouble as children, she'd said - just like her twins, Fred and George. Gideon, especially, had always been impulsive and hasty. He had always been the epitome of a Gryffindor. Molly had always known it would get Gideon killed, and sure enough, Gideon had been murdered during the First Wizarding War.
Voldemort slipped out of Hermione's mind and sighed. He took a step toward her and laced his arms around her shoulders. He bent down and touched his forehead to hers as he murmured,
"Who'd have known Gideon Prewett would be so very useful?"
"So he'll go to Azkaban instead of Bellatrix." Hermione shut her eyes. "She's dead instead of him, and he's the one in Azkaban. Things are different. No more or less suffering, just different."
"You're trying to justify all of this to yourself," Voldemort whispered, "because you're still convinced that you're here to save the world. But you're here to help me win, Hermione."
"I'm here to save you," she insisted softly. He took her face in his hands and said quietly,
"Beautiful Dark Lady. You have saved me already. Shall we have lunch?"
Later, in bed, Hermione lay on her back, and Voldemort turned to face her. He dragged his fingertip around the inside of her left wrist and hummed,
"I don't want to give you the Dark Mark you saw on the others in your lived existence. It would be agony for you to see it on your own skin every day, I think."
"Thank you." Hermione huffed a breath and said, "I'll still be your Death Eater."
"You do not need to be marked," he said. "We've got your stones. If I need to call you… well, I'll find another way. I'm not going to tattoo you up, brand you like an animal. You're not my slave. You're my…"
He trailed off then, for he still wasn't sure exactly what she was to him. He dragged his fingers around the ring she wore on her left hand, and he watched her shut her eyes. She wondered aloud,
"Do the marriage vows I made in the future mean anything here, do you think?"
"No," he answered immediately. "Your husband hasn't even been born yet."
"What do you want of me?" Hermione turned her face toward him. Voldemort's lips parted a little, and he whispered,
"I want you to… be my Dark Lady."
"And what will that mean?" Hermione asked. "Now that Dumbledore's gone, we can go to Diagon Alley, holding hands at the Leaky Cauldron. But someday, you'll be very powerful. Will we try to have children? Will you ever want more of me?"
"Children." Voldemort furrowed his brow and then remembered all the fights Hermione and Ron had had about attempting to conceive a child. He shook his head and whispered, "You've lost the plot a bit, Hermione."
"I'm wondering what Odysseus meant for me to do once I'd come here and fallen in love with you." She pushed herself up onto her elbows. "You and I plotted for Bellatrix to kill Albus Dumbledore. Now Dumbledore is dead. You're making connections, getting money. Abraxas calls you My Lord. Will you build yourself a new home with all of your newfound funds? When will you start marking up Death Eaters? When do you start with plants and spies at the Ministry to imbue your cause into every department there? And what role do I play in all of that?"
"A very important role!" Voldemort hissed. "Hermione, you are… without you, there wouldn't be any of it, you understand. The night of the Masquerade Ball, hardly anyone was taking me seriously. The progress I've made just in the last few months is all due to you. And, yes, I'm going to do everything you've just said, and I'm going to do it with you beside me. As my Dark Lady."
"So, is that what the ring means?" Hermione asked, and Voldemort just stared. She held up her hand and gestured to the ruby and diamond ring on her left hand. "Does this ring mean that I'm your partner in all of this?"
"Yes." Voldemort took her hand and kissed the ring. He lowered her fingers to his lap and whispered, "I need your mind, Hermione, and I need your magical strength. I can't do it without you. I think Odysseus knew that. That's why you were sent to me, here, in this time. To march beside me, arm in arm. Will you do it? Will you help me win?"
Hermione let out a long sigh and nodded. "Yes. I belong to the Dark Lord. Now. Let's get some sleep. There will be more news about Dumbledore tomorrow."
Author's Note: Fair warning that this fic will end in about five chapters. That's because this will be a Part I will a sequel. As soon as this is done, I'll be writing the sequel to Inimica, Amator. After that, I'll write the sequel to this story. :) Thanks as always for reading and reviewing.