.::Bargaining With the Devil ~ Prologue
She would have to risk her life every second just for the sake of defeating the dark and bringing back the light. That’s when she made her decision. It was worth it. Even if she would lose her own life in the process. There are things worth fighting for, and this was definitely one of them.
Bargaining With the Devil
Prologue
20. December, 1996
***
Choosing to fight the Dark more intently comes at a price.
***
Hermione was standing in front of Dumbledore’s office, feeling nervous. She had just come back from Slughorn’s Christmas party when Dumbledore’s head appeared in the Gryffindor common room fireplace, calling her to his office.
She ran her fingers along the top of the doorknob and hesitated before walking in. His voice had been so urgent, so grim, foreboding something bad.
But she couldn’t turn back now. She took a deep breath and walked in. Albus Dumbledore was sitting in a big armchair by the fireplace, his eyes fixed on the fire. He was deep in thought and Hermione had to clear her throat to get his attention.
He turned his head immediately and at the sight of her, his eyes darkened. Standing up, he walked over to her.
“Good evening, Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said, smiling somewhat nervously. She took his extended hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at his blackened hand, wondering what in the world could be wrong with it.
“Good evening, Hermione. Come sit down.” He led her back to his armchair and sat down. With a quick flick of his wand, another armchair appeared across from him, and Hermione sat herself down.
“What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked boldly. Even though she appeared to be brave, her stomach tightened and her heart was wildly beating against her chest.
“I am only asking you, this is not an order,” he remarked slowly, watching her carefully from behind his half-moon spectacles. “You do not have to agree.”
“Say it,” Hermione said, her voice barely a whisper. She tightened her grip on the arms of her chair, so that her knuckles went white. Dumbledore sighed heavily and leaned forward. The shadows in the room seemed to deepen, and Hermione patiently waited for Dumbledore’s words.
“As you know, we’re at war, and our state is critical. There are traitors; there are spies. Imperius curses on many of us. I’m sure you realise that.” Hermione nodded her head in confusion.
“Well, I must ask you to…to work as a spy for us.” Hermione gaped at him in disbelief. She gulped, and a rigid lump formed in her throat. A wave of fear washed over her, and she felt her hands tremble.
She was scared.
Before she could reply or even let the words sink in, Dumbledore continued.
“Not now, of course. This is only a plan for the future, because you’re still not of age to be in the Order. Once the time is right, I will inform you or, if by that time anything shall happen to me, you will receive a letter saying so.”
It took her a moment to force the words out of her mouth, but finally she managed to do so.
“A spy? Why me?” Her voice was hoarse. A thousand questions floated in her head, and she didn’t know which one she should ask first. The ticking of the old grandfather clock seemed to be louder than before as it echoed in her head. It took her a moment to restrain her panic and find her lost voice, but when she did, she continued. “But I am a Muggle-born. They will never believe me.”
“Of course, but you will state all your arguments, which will be surprising, but effective.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will say that you’ve decided to work for them due to personal reasons. You want power; wealth…and that we would never ever suspect you to betray us. You will have a meeting with Draco Malfoy. He masters the art of Legilimency, but I’m sure your Occlumency will be just as strong. I recommend you study it precisely. You have to convince him and he has to believe you. Like I said, Hermione, this is not an order…it is a request. It’s only your decision. They need everything and everyone to help them…you will be their biggest opportunity because they know you move in the deepest circles of the Order.”
Hermione mulled over everything she had heard. She was supposed to be a spy for the Dark side. Risk her life every second just for the sake of defeating the dark and bringing back the light. That’s when she made her decision. It was worth it. Even if she would lose her own life in the process. There are things worth fighting for, and this was definitely one of them.
“Now I ask you,” Dumbledore spoke up again. “What is your decision?” Hermione thought about it for one last second. This was it. After this, there was no turning back. No running away from her fate and duty.
“Yes. I will be your spy.”
She expected Dumbledore to let out a sigh of relief or at least be happy and proud that she accepted the dangerous task, but the lines on his face only seemed to deepen. He shut his eyes and appeared to be deep in thought, faraway from this warm place by the fire, in a raging storm, fighting the battle of his heart and mind. He then lifted his gaze to meet hers and gave her a reassuring smile, but there was something wrong about it.
“I will be forever gratified and proud of your courage and self-sacrifice, but now we have no time. We won’t inform anyone about this.”
“What about Harry and Ron?” Hermione asked hastily.
“Well, perhaps they could know, but I think it would only complicate the situation. No. Maybe once they are ready; but I will leave that to you. Now, we should focus more on our plan. There are things you need to learn, there are things that will happen. I, myself, am not sure what consequence they will have. Like I said, when the time comes, you will be informed.”
Hermione tried to understand. But somehow, despite her great intelligence, she couldn’t. It was all too strange. A very odd and uncomfortable shiver ran up her spine again. Why was Dumbledore making such plans for the future?
She waited for Dumbledore to continue and perhaps tell her more, explain more, but he remained silent. That was a sign for Hermione to stand up and walk to the door.
“Goodnight, professor,” she said almost inaudibly and, without waiting for a response, she left. Dumbledore took off his spectacles and rubbed his tired eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, but no one else, except the burning fire and ticking grandfather clock heard him.