Chapter 11

"I want you to be there when I speak to your … friends from the Order."

She stared at him for a while before she answered, "No."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at her, displeasure rolling off him in waves. "What makes you think you have a choice?"

"I know what you're trying to do," she said quietly, in contrast to her tumultuous eyes. "I might not have a choice, but I'm not going to go there willingly, knowing that you'll purposely torture them before my eyes and leaving me with a dilemma of helping them or just stand there pretending that I'm on the neutral side."

He laughed coldly. "Is that so? Haven't you've said quote, 'I've already made my choice' end quote?"

She closed her eyes briefly, struggling internally before she looked at him again. "I did make my choice, and I'm suffering the consequences right now because I have to choose between the person that I've chosen to be with and the side that logic tells me I should be loyal to."

He was in front of her in a flash. Grabbing her chin so tightly that she nearly winced from the pain, he tilted her face upwards until he was staring directly into her eyes. The anger on his face was consuming, and she almost thought that she could feel the licks of rage lashing against her skin. Then, it suddenly disappeared, replaced by an almost kind smile. Her eyes flickered towards his, only to find them still as cold and cruel as usual, a sharp contrast to his almost loving expression. A shiver involuntarily ran down her spine; a look like that on his face could not possibly mean something pleasant.

"Are you suffering, Hermione?" he asked, his voice like warm liquid.

It would have been so easy to be lulled into a false sense of security when he spoke to someone like that, but she knew; after so many years of living with him, she just knew. Therefore, she kept her mouth shut, waiting for him to continue.

"Tsk," he clicked his tongue exaggeratedly. "And here I was, thinking that I was allowing you, a Mudblood, enough comfort. After all, not every Muggle-born witch or wizard is getting such a nice treatment from their masters … as you've already witnessed."

A hint of sarcasm touched his smile, but it was quickly hidden again. Hermione nearly cringed, remembering how her fellow classmates were suffering, but she managed to hold it back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"Then again, I suppose that I was too … inconsiderate," he mused. "I've never seen the point of having people close. Perhaps it's the lack of friends around you?" He moved his face until his lips were nearly touching her ears. "Or perhaps the lack of … relatives?"

She got a sinking feeling in her stomach as her mind processed his words. No, it couldn't be. He couldn't be implying what she was thinking …

"No …" she whispered as he moved his head backwards so that he could see her face in full again.

"Yessss, Hermione. Had you forgotten about your parents?" Voldemort asked, the smile on his face widening and his eyes glinting ominously. "Poor Hugo and Jean Granger … or maybe I should call them … Wendell and Monica Wilkins?"

Fear seized her heart, and uncontrollably, her body started to shake.

Her parents' safety had never been at the top of her list of concerns when she'd first gotten caught, since she had known that they had moved to Australia and the Death Eaters didn't really have a reason to go after them after Harry had died. After she'd been forced to stay by Voldemort's side, she made it a point to not think about them because she didn't want to let him have something else to hold over her head. In addition to the fact that he had never officially used Legilimency on her to access deeper memories, she'd thought that her parents were completely out of harm's way.

Until now.

"Stay away from them," she said as calmly as she could while she struggled to stop herself from shaking.

He tilted his head to one side, curious. "No 'I don't know what you're talking about'?"

"Do I look like a fool to you?" she asked, irritated.

"Difficult question to answer, Granger, judging from your unintelligent choices and decisions." The harshness in his eyes was a big contrast from the pleasant expression he had on his face. He paused for a second. "You are to follow me to the dungeons. You are not to curse my Death Eaters, regardless of what happens down there. Any pranks down there, and I promise that you'll be seeing your parents sooner than you think. Am I understood?"

Hermione gritted her teeth, the urge to protest or rebel strong. However, the vision of her parents being killed or tortured kept popping up in her mind's eye. She had no choice. However …

"How do I know if you haven't already captured them?" The suspicion in her was high; no one could possibly blame her for being paranoid.

"They are currently still living happily in Australia," he answered offhandedly. "I suppose it was careless of me. Perhaps you would be more willing to cooperate if you see them standing in front of you?"

Her breath caught in her throat, and she shook her head. "I won't curse your Death Eaters, regardless of what happens in the dungeons," she answered quickly.

If he did have them in captivity, seeing them would force her to submit to him more quickly than just threatening her with their safety. This was something that both of them knew, and Hermione could only hope that he hadn't already had them killed.

She didn't know what she would do if they were already killed, and she didn't dare to ask him for a visit to Australia. He might see it as an opportunity to really capture them and use them as a bait to control her.

"Remember your promise, dear," he said.

With that said, he motioned for Hermione to go with him. Reluctantly, she trailed a few steps behind him. On their way to the dungeons, they encountered Bellatrix, who immediately knelt down in front of Voldemort with a reverent, whispered "My Lord."

"On your way to the dungeons, I assume, Bella?" Voldemort asked coldly after permitting her to stand.

"Yes, my Lord," she replied, her onyx eyes hardening when they landed on Hermione.

Voldemort gave a brief nod before striding forward, with both witches following closely behind him.

~-0-~

She fought against the immobilization spell as best as she could. However, he wasn't the darkest wizard in history for nothing. She didn't even know how she managed to break through the spell, but the moment she did, she pulled out her wand.

"Expelliarmus!"

Voldemort's wand flew through the air and landed neatly in her outstretched hand. His eyes snapped towards her, but she didn't have time to wonder about the lack of anger in them; her attention was immediately caught by Elsbeth Stroud, who attempted to attack him. Without thinking, she cast a shield in front of him, preventing harm from being done to him; Stroud crashed into the ward and bounced backwards, landing on the floor.

The change of events jumpstarted the other Death Eaters in the room. Draco immediately took refuge in the corner with his wand out, waiting for any stray spells that might crash into him. A malicious grin appeared on Bellatrix's face, and with a wave of her wand, a dark-brown streak of light flew across the room towards Hermione. Dolohov whipped out his wand and threw a turquoise-colored spell of his own.

Hermione immediately jumped to the side, allowing the two spells to collide midway, while she pocketed the yew wand and tightened the grip around her own wand. The irritation in her spiked, and she threw some of the most vicious spells she knew towards them. Though she hadn't dueled for a while, she didn't follow Voldemort around for nothing.

From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Voldemort raise his eyebrow at a couple of her spells. However, he made no move to stop her or his Death Eaters. It thoroughly confused Hermione. Why wasn't he attacking? Why wasn't he even attempting to get back his wand?

However, her thoughts were disrupted when Bellatrix sent a malicious charcoal-colored hex towards her.

Bringing her wand to her side, she slashed her wand through the air upwards diagonally before bringing it into an arc so that it was pointing directly in front of her. With a small flick of her wand, a fuchsia-colored spell raced forward before splitting into two different streaks of light, one heading towards Dolohov and the other heading towards Bellatrix.

Dolohov and a sneering Bellatrix both conjured a Shield Charm to block the curse. However, Hermione watched with no small amount of viciousness when her hexes obliterated those wards and crashed into the two Death Eaters, both of whom she still secretly—okay, not so secretly—held grudges against.

It was one thing for Hermione to pity Bellatrix for garnering unrequited love towards Voldemort; it was another for her to forgive the days of torture she'd had to endure. With Dolohov … well, she didn't care as much for her looks, but it didn't mean that she didn't care at all. Whenever she saw that ugly scar on her body, she would remember the pain and near-death experience she'd had after that … exchange at the Ministry of Magic.

And vengeance was hers.

Not bothering to wait for Bellatrix and Dolohov to get back on their feet, Hermione continued to throw curse after curse at them. Due to their unfavorable positions on the floor, they either had to roll away from the spells or conjure shields to ward them off, even with the fact that Hermione was throwing hexes in two different directions.

Sudden movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she glanced towards it just in time to see a panting Elsbeth Stroud get off the floor, glaring at Voldemort, who had his eyes on the duel in front of him, as if he didn't notice her at all. For a moment, Hermione thought about shouting out a warning. However, the moment Stroud took a step forward, Voldemort lazily flicked his wrist without looking towards her, and Stroud immediately crashed onto the floor and remained still.

Hermione's spell-casting faltered when she witnessed this scene, which allowed Bellatrix and Dolohov to get back on their feet again. Therefore, most of Hermione's concentration was immediately pulled back to them.

However, that didn't stop her from thinking.

It was all a test—he was never defenseless, even when I conjured that Shield Charm for him—he was never in danger—

Those thoughts kept running through her head. On top of everything that had happened that day, without warning, an unprecedented, blinding rage rushed through her, fueling her curses and the speed with which she was throwing them.

Beads of sweat on the two Death Eaters' faces glistened as they maneuvered their bodies, either to move out of the way of harmful spells or to cast a curse of their own. The jeers on Bellatrix's face disappeared, leaving behind cold hatred and full concentration. Dolohov's jaws were set, though a tinge of disbelief lingered in his eyes.

Several stray hexes bombarded into the walls instead of their intended targets; dust mingled with the streaks of different colors of light, causing visibility in the prison to decrease dramatically. Occasionally, squeaks of fear could be heard from the far corner where Draco had found cover in.

Suddenly, the prison door flew open. The crash caught Hermione's attention, and she immediately drew up a Shield Charm, just in case it were other Death Eaters coming to help Bellatrix and Dolohov. However, they weren't Death Eaters.

"Minerva, both of them are here!" one of the Order members who'd barged into the dungeon shouted behind his shoulder, a strange mixture of fear and relief in his voice.

Seconds later, Minerva McGonagall appeared at the door with her wand at the ready. When her eyes alighted on Hermione, a small smile appeared on her face. But before she could get near enough to Hermione to talk to her, Death Eaters Apparated into the prison cell.

Chaos ensued. Streaks of different colors crashed into the ceiling, the walls, and sometimes onto someone's body. As the seconds ticked by, more and more Death Eaters and Order members joined the fight, either by entering the door or Apparating into the prison cell. The Anti-Apparition wards were probably down, but the Order members showed no signs of leaving; they seemed determined to save those who had been captured.

With so many people in between her and her targets, Hermione lowered her wand and narrowed her eyes at Voldemort, who was standing casually on the side, watching with mild interest as if he weren't standing in the middle of an ongoing battle. Spells that rushed his way were either batted away with his hand or casually sidestepped. As if he noticed that she was watching him, his eyes flickered towards her. A small smirk appeared on his face, and all of a sudden, her previous rage crashed back onto her, twice in intensity.

"Is this another one of your idiotic tests?" she shouted across the room, her fingers gripping onto the handle of her wand with more force than necessary.

The smirk on his face grew, and he raised an eyebrow at her, seemingly finding something funny. The nerve of this man!

She resisted the urge to stomp over and tear out his newly regained hair and continued, "Enough is enough! If you don't trust someone, it doesn't matter how many 'tests' you put them through! You still won't believe them when the truth is dancing naked in front of your eyes! I'm not one of your little experiments! I don't want to be one of your stupid experiments! If you want to test how far you can push someone before you reach their limits, you can find some other plaything! I've had enough of this and everything related to it!"

With that said, she spun on the spot. The last thing she saw before she Disapparated was the look of genuine shock imprinted on Voldemort's face.

And that was when she remembered she still had his wand.

~-0-~

Now that she'd … confiscated (for a lack of a better word) Voldemort's wand, it was all or nothing. She didn't want to think what would happen if Voldemort captured her again; she could only think about what she should do now, at the present moment.

With a crack, Hermione Apparated into the Ministry of Magic. The personnel there looked in her direction in alarm before they calmed down and returned to their work. At first, it surprised Hermione, but then she remembered that she had been here with Voldemort before; it was more than likely that they'd thought that she was here with their Lord and master.

Well, they were in for a nasty surprise.

As quickly as she could without running, she went to the staircase. The elevator was much too slow and she only needed to go two floors up. She knew that using International Apparition required time for the wards to be taken down—time that she didn't have, given that Voldemort could arrive any minute. The International Floo Network was the fastest and easiest way out of the country.

She felt that she was already extremely lucky that the Death Eaters in the Ministry hadn't been informed that she was on the run yet. Perhaps Voldemort was arrogant enough to believe that they would stop her when she arrived here unaccompanied? Or maybe the Death Eaters were still busy with the Order members?

Though she felt a small twinge of guilt towards the Order, she brushed it aside. She wanted out. She didn't want anything to do with this war between the Light and the Dark any longer, not when she didn't want to—couldn't—choose a side.

By the time she reached Level Six, however, it appeared that her streak of good luck had come to an end.

The moment she threw open the door, the witch closest to her let out a gasp while the other witches and wizards in the room rose to their feet, pulling out their wands. Nonetheless, Hermione was one step ahead of them. After hexing them and blocking the entrances to the office with wards, she ran into the office for the Floo Regulation Panel. The wards might not hold for long, but she hoped that it would buy her enough time.

"Accio Floo Network records for Australia," she cast, praying hard that it would work.

Thankfully, a huge tome immediately flew towards her and landed in her hand. Her hand mildly shook as she waved her wand, using a handy little spell that would immediately take her to the page with the word, the name of the city, she was looking for.

Her heart thudded painfully against her chest, and she nearly broke down when the first and second names didn't give her any results. She let out a huge breath and felt somewhat relieved when the third name finally made the pages turn. Her heart leapt with joy when an address, a name was presented to her.

Tightening the hold on her wand, she raced towards the fireplaces. The Ministry officials were still unconscious, which probably meant that the other Death Eaters had not received news about where she was.

That thought was completely and utterly obliterated when she felt the magic in the air shift, nearly causing her to swoon on the spot.

Shit.

He was here, though she had no idea which floor.

She held her breath as she frantically grabbed some Floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. Stepping into the fire, she called out the name.

Even as she was zooming away from the Ministry, she did not see Voldemort, but it was only when she had safely arrived at her destination did relief finally settle over her.

She was free.

~-0-~

A/N: Many thanks to those of you who've read, added to faves, and added to alert! Huge thanks to those of you who've reviewed: Relent1ess, nagi92, and AnotherAddicted!

Replies to anon reviews can be found on Tumblr, the link of which can be found on my profile.