A Long Way from Home: Chapter Eleven
So we get a lovely warning with this chapter: "Quick warning: This is a very dark chapter and Hermione will do something that many of you may think out of character. I hope that I've done this well enough that you'll understand her motivation."
Oh dear.
Chapter XI
Once more, for the hell of it, Ron replayed the events of the past thirty-six hours in his head. He especially wanted to dwell on the memories of Harry urinating in the flower bed. The events prior to Harry catching the teacup were hazy - he had been in a daze since Andie had disappeared, coming out of it only when his companions found it necessary to seek his opinion. If he starts in about a GODDAMNED HOLE, I will drink myself into a stupor. The faint magical waiver Waiver: (n) an intentional relinquishment of some right, interest, or the like. in the air as Harry had disappeared had been like a slap across the face. The events that had preceded that very moment seemed to rush in on him all at once and he was suddenly hyper-aware of everything going on around him. He saw Hermione’s lips move in the briefest gasp before she had taken off after a strange figure. He saw the panic in Remus’ eyes and finally, his vision broadened enough to take in the new figures closing in on them. His own Quidditch skills still in tact, he reacted with lightening speed. In a flash, he had pulled Remus behind him and began taking it up the ass casting several spells he thought long-forgotten.
The author starts making up new spells in a manner that reminds me unpleasantly of Rose Potter. Hermione decides that they have to rescue Harry from the vampires. I'm guessing that this is what's going to pass for a central conflict, since we only have one chapter left (Thank God!).
“We’re going after him,” she called over her shoulder as she turned onto the thoroughfare.
Quickening his pace, he reached forward and grabbed her upper arm. She spun around and glared mutinously at him. Somehow, he knew that this would be his last chance to argue and he sighed.
“That’s not your decision to make.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” she replied through her teeth.
“Hermione, I really think you should leave this up to some of the older members.”
“That’s bullocks and you know it, Ron,” she hissed, thrusting her finger into his anus chest. “I’m going after him, because he’s my best friend and I don’t need your permission or your company. I will be just fine without you.”
“Don’t be daft,” he said, changing tactics and putting on a more casual air. “I’ll not let you go off on some dangerous mission without me. We’ll talk to Remus; we’ll get what we need.”
She didn’t buy his complacent tone but didn’t argue further. Turning on her heel, she started back towards the vampires’ castle.
They make some plans or something, but they don't know where the castle is.
“You’re very rude when you’re under pressure. There’s a doorbell, or you could even knock,” he said, trying to keep his tone light as he smiled slightly.
Hermione burst into tears.
“Merlin, Hermione, what’s wrong?” he asked as he rushed to her, gathering her into a tight hug.
“This is entirely my fault, Ron, all of it. I should never have published that paper and now Harry and Andie are gone and I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t get them back.” Wah wah. CRY HARDER, BITCH. I ENJOY YOUR MISFORTUNE GREATLY. She cried, the words rushing out and tumbling over each other. Her shoulders hitched against him as she began to sob harder.
Bewildered, Ron rubbed her back gently, making small shushing sounds. “It’s ok, Hermione. This isn’t your fault.”
Sadly, they do not take this opportunity to realize they love each other and restore canon.
***
I'm not sure why they keep making plans if they don't even know where Harry is.
“Sit.” Lilith commanded and jolted her finger at Hermione. Stunned at the pressure on her shoulders, she did as told.
“Have you come to any conclusions?” the vampire asked as she examined the long red fingernails on her left hand. A vampire painting her nails red? How unimaginative.
“About what?” Hermione asked, looking quizzically at Lilith.
“About why your lover was taken?”
Hermione hesitated. She had a few theories, but was unsure how much she should share. Realizing that the pressure on her shoulders had been lifted, she stood and turned back towards the fireplace and jumped into the flames to escape from the fic.
“I understand your hesitation, Hermione Granger. Caution is a strong trait.”
“They want something only Harry can give,” she said finally. “I’m not sure what that is, though.”
“Maybe it is not for you to know yet.”
“I don’t think the ‘what’ is important. He’s been taken and I will find him by whatever means necessary,” she replied, finally turning around and resuming her seat in one of the chairs across from the large desk. She held her shoulders erect Heh. Yes, I am secretly ten. and met the vampire’s level gaze with one of her own.
Lilith regarded her for several moments before making a small waving motion at the door to the right of her desk. Within seconds, it opened and a tall, dark-haired vampire walked in. He bowed gently to his mistress and waited at the corner of her desk.
“Hadrian, bring Petrescu. And the tools.” Hermione tried to keep her breath steady as Lilith took off her clothes spoke. Her chance had finally arrived.
Wordlessly, Hadrian left the room. In took several minutes, but he eventually returned with Olivia Petrescu and a small black box floating behind him. The petite form of the traitorous witch looked emaciated. The bruises and cuts over her body were evidence of torture; Hermione knew from her research that vampires did not use magic for punishment. They were artists of the medieval trade. WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH YOU PEOPLE AND YOUR TORTURE FETISH. WIZARDS HAVE SPELLS TO INFLICT MORE PAIN THAN ANY TORTURE DEVICE COULD.
Lilith eyed the witch for a few moments before a sly, nearly evil grin spread across her face. She walked over to Olivia and lifted her head from her chest. Hermione saw Olivia’s brown eyes swivel before focusing on Lilith’s face.
“Do not hesitate to break her,” Lilith said, speaking to Hermione but staring at Olivia.
Hermione did not answer, fearing that her voice would betray her deep-seated unease with the situation. She took another deep breath, going over each step of the plan, before she flicked her wand once to release the bonds that held Olivia. Another flick and she was seated in a hard-backed wooden chair. The entire room was silent, filled thick with honey tension. Hermione turned her back on Olivia and nodded once to Lilith and Hadrian. Wordlessly, they left to prepare the Comfy Chair.
As soon as Lilith had exited the room, Olivia stretched her bruised and beaten face into a thin smile.
“I’d like to see you try. I’ve heard so much about you, Granger. A very dear friend of my mother’s had fought you many times in battle and I know that even in the end, you could not kill her. Your little boyfriend had to do the dirty work for you.” Meh. I don't know about that. Hermione can be pretty ruthless, and I can believe that she would kill someone if she had to. Torture? HELL NO.
Hermione felt white hot angering Angering? surging through her, but miraculously she kept her face still. Counting to ten, she took another deep breath and forced herself to concentrate, to compartmentalize, to shut down C-C-C-C-OMBO BREAKER!. She began waving her wand, looping fresh rope over Petrescu’s arms and legs. She watched as the sinewy magical rope tightened and snaked through her subject’s limbs. As it finished, she hesitated as to whether or not to gag Olivia, but decided against it. It would rob her of any chance to speak before they commenced their work.
“You were her special little pet. Her little fetish. Potter belonged to the Dark Lord, but you were to be hers.” WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK IS THIS?
Hermione began rearranging the objects on the table next to her, attempting to reign in her temper and focus on her objective. She concentrated on her tools and felt a strange sort of déjà vu settle over her. They had come across several people in their hunts for the horcruxes that needed some persuasion to guide the trio in their quest. No. Just no. She had become a master at administering veritaserum and knew precisely what questions to ask to get the information she needed. When required, she could completely compartmentalize all of her emotions and focus solely on the task at hand. Her table was well laid out: there was a vial of the truth potion, a small talisman that simply looked devilish and nasty, but was really only a fancy lie-detector, and a jar of pain potion. There was also a small dagger, well-polished and impossibly sharp. She had found, in her handful of personal experience, that these tools were rarely used. They were props, though effective ones. The real tools were her mind and her force of will. Why is it that the authors who idolize Hermione seem to have ZERO grasp of her character? It's the same with the crazy Snapefen.
She had taught herself to be a Legilimens, and she had aided Harry to become a master Occlumens. Yeah...Harry didn't do too well with that whole Occlumency thing. Its use in interrogation had been a side-benefit that she had not counted on. REALLY? YOU DIDN'T COUNT ON LEGILIMENCY BEING HELPFUL IN INTERROGATION? WHAT, YOU JUST THOUGHT IT WAS A FUN PARTY TRICK? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?
She turned again towards Olivia and cocked her head slightly, waiting.
“She never did get to you. But she found your father easily enough,” Olivia said slowly, her voice proud and her face blatantly displaying a smirk. “He begged to be killed so that he would have no part in this story.”
No response came from Hermione. She merely stood, her fingers clasping her wand loosely in front of her, and looked down at Petrescu.
Olivia laughed harshly. “I always heard you were a cold bitch. Does it not bother you? Does it not get under your skin? Your father begged for his life because you were too uncaring to keep him safe.”
Hermione cocked her head to the side She already cocked her head. What, is she just standing there and tilting her head left and right? and tapped her wand twice against the palm of her hand.
Olivia growled lowly and began to struggle against her bonds. She was glaring at Hermione now, her eyes flashing wildly. The look of superiority was gone from her eyes and all Hermione could see was pure animalistic fear. So...she's terrified of Hermione because she didn't respond to taunting? Well, excuse me, because I'm off to terrorize the world!
In a flash, Hermione had her wand at Olivia’s throat. She looked into the other witch’s eyes and smiled wickedly, knowing that she now had full control of the situation. She had waited and baited the other witch. Her silence and non-reaction had dealt a heavy blow to Petrescu’s confidence and it was the perfect time for femmeslash to strike. Swiftly and silently, she cast the necessary charm and found herself glancing carefully, as if through a pensieve, at the blank mind of her subject.
Without hesitation, Hermione pooled her focus and shoved through the blockade. Wow, that sounded INCREDIBLY dirty. Olivia’s thoughts had the strange and scattered organization of a madwoman. Hermione pushed forward, looking deeper, looking for the pain and the secrets.
Going farther back, she felt suddenly as if she’d hit a wall. And just when I thought it couldn't get any filthier... All around her was simply blackness, silent and endless. She had hit her mark; this was the mind of a person so mentally and emotionally damaged that her mind had fractured, concealing many of its worst secrets. In the background, beyond the fog of the mind/body barrier, she heard Olivia scream as she gathered her will and shoved through the darkness. Blah blah blah. The unintentional innuendo continues and Hermione finally discovers where Harry is.
In a single motion, Hermione pulled herself from the mind of Olivia and stepped back to look at her. I have no words. I can't believe that all this sexual imagery isn't deliberate.
Olivia was crying and mouthing silent words. She swayed her body wildly, tugging at her ropes and taking deep, raspy breaths. Hermione watched, emotionless. She would celebrate the knowledge of finding Harry later. She waited as Olivia’s breathing slowed some and her body stopping pitched back and forth. There was a sharp intake of breath and Petrescu lifted her head to glare.
“Go to hell.”
Hermione smirked. “I’ll see you there.” And again, she allowed herself to venture into the mind of the traitor, reaching back as far as she dared, digging, searching. When she found what she was looking for, she pulled a single image, of a father, taking what was never his to have.
The tug and push firmly ejected her from her wanderings and she walked away from the chair, knowing that the price she would pay for this would be worth it. This is just...what the hell...THIS IS NOT HERMIONE.
Still, as she walked down the hall from Lilith’s office, she stopped in a small water closet and slammed the door shut behind her. She felt a wave of guilt crash over her and vomited neatly into the toilet bowl. Ah yes. Hermione is so perfect that even her puking is neat! I hate you, Suethor.
***
Blah blah blah. They continue making nebulous plans, and Hermione continues to act completely out of character. She tells Ron that she has to go first because if they can't rescue Harry, her life will be meaningless without him. Great. Shades of Bella Swan.
***
Harry is in a dungeon with Andie and Draco. Magic doesn't work there (no doubt for some bullshit reason). Draco's characterization is straight out of the Draco Trilogy.
***
Harry wants to go on a hunger strike or something. He also has a shitfit when Draco dares to speak of the wonderful Suemione.
***
Harry has a weird dream/flashback that's really just an excuse for him to gush about how much he loves Hermione and she is so beautiful. It's so touching that I think I may vomit.
***
Harry’s eyes snapped open and he looked around his cell. He had awoken that day in Snape’s potions dungeons, confused. His head was filled with odd images of his mother and Ron… and something else that he couldn’t place his finger on. Snape was wearing a very worried expression, but remained silent about what had happened to Harry. Their lessons ended after that and it wasn’t long before they fought Voldemort in the graveyard.
Now, however, he could remember everything. His words with his mother and Dumbledore. He felt Ron’s loyalty. He felt Hermione’s encompassing love, which was slightly sticky.
He understood finally, what Dumbledore had been saying all those years ago. Love was his most powerful weapon, now that the last puzzle piece had fallen into place. Hermione, he knew, without a doubt, was on her way to rescue him. She wasn’t coming out of loyalty or friendship; she was coming because she loved him. So if she had come out of friendship, it would be bad? Romantic love wasn't the love that saved Harry in canon--it was self-sacrificing love. Why do Suethors consistently miss the point?
***
Hermione flipped the small coin-like talisman in her fingers. Oh no! She's turning into Harvey Dent! The other teams were gathered behind her, waiting for her lead.
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tapped the talisman with her wand.
It was not unlike Apparating, but she felt as if there was something else as she traveled to the Unplottable castle. An extra little squeeze to her boobs or something, though she couldn’t properly put her finger on it. She alighted on top of a tall hill overlooking a green, wild-flower filled valley. Wherever she was, it was broad daylight, which she knew would work to their disadvantage.
Lying down in the grass, she soon discovered that she had landed right on a cow pie edged across the top of the hill to get a better view of the valley. The castle loomed over everything, casting a dark shadow and looking oddly out of place. She took out a small pair of omniculars and scanned the ledges of the castle wall. Counting quietly under her breath, she noted the six sentries stationed at various points. They were oddly positioned however; three of the wizards were stationed closest to a lone tower at the farthest end of the plaza.
Blah blah. The rest of the rescue team arrives.
“What’s our position?” Remus asked quietly, looking out over the valley.
“Reverse cowgirl, of course! Six stationed on the walls, no one else is visible. Tracing spells show no activity,” Hermione replied.
“Are we still using the same point of entry?” Ron asked. Heh. Seriously, this story is really dirty.
“Yes. The southern entrance to the cellar is actually in the plaza, opposite that large tower. There’s an entrance in the walls on that side as well.”
“I can’t believe we’re going to stroll right through the front door,” Ron replied.
“We aren’t,” Hermione answered. “We're going to use the backdoor, of course! It's a tighter fit, but I thought a change of pace would be nice. I’m going to go through, get to the dungeons, and then bring you in.”
Blah blah blah. They reach the captives, and everything seems to be going fine. Not that I'm surprised.
Malfoy shot him a deadly glare and Hermione couldn’t help but smile. Draco Malfoy was exactly as she remembered him. Smart, witty and easily the biggest arsehole she’d ever met. No. That's not Draco. He's not particularly smart or witty, and he's a bigoted doucheface. He was a pompous pain and knew it.
They start to leave, but Hermione suspects that something is wrong!
The room on the other side of the door was obviously some sort of lab, and a very large one at that. It was a windowless room; Hermione could barely make out the closest row of cabinets in the light streaming in from the hall.
They all stepped in the room, shoulder to shoulder, wands out. Hermione was not surprised when the large doors slammed behind them; Harry had separated the rest of the team for a reason.
As the doors slammed, a hundred torches burst to light on the walls and the air filled with the sounds of dozens of pops. Someone was making popcorn! Eeeeeeeevil popcorn! She saw the forms of black-clad figures materialize around the room and released that they were completely surrounded. A figure near the center of the group stepped forward and slid his hood away.
“My father was right you know. He said that your friends would come after you without hesitation, Potter.”
At that precise moment, Ginny Weasley fainted dead away. Ginny? Faint? I don't think so. In near perfect choreography, Harry began to dance Swan Lake used the distraction to toss a hex at Tynan Lahey while Draco Malfoy rushed forward and caught Ginny, pulling her into his arms with shocking tenderness. Seriously? You're going to pull Draco/Ginny OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE?
Chapter X ~ Table of Contents ~ Chapter XII
Oh dear.
Chapter XI
Once more, for the hell of it, Ron replayed the events of the past thirty-six hours in his head. He especially wanted to dwell on the memories of Harry urinating in the flower bed. The events prior to Harry catching the teacup were hazy - he had been in a daze since Andie had disappeared, coming out of it only when his companions found it necessary to seek his opinion. If he starts in about a GODDAMNED HOLE, I will drink myself into a stupor. The faint magical waiver Waiver: (n) an intentional relinquishment of some right, interest, or the like. in the air as Harry had disappeared had been like a slap across the face. The events that had preceded that very moment seemed to rush in on him all at once and he was suddenly hyper-aware of everything going on around him. He saw Hermione’s lips move in the briefest gasp before she had taken off after a strange figure. He saw the panic in Remus’ eyes and finally, his vision broadened enough to take in the new figures closing in on them. His own Quidditch skills still in tact, he reacted with lightening speed. In a flash, he had pulled Remus behind him and began taking it up the ass casting several spells he thought long-forgotten.
The author starts making up new spells in a manner that reminds me unpleasantly of Rose Potter. Hermione decides that they have to rescue Harry from the vampires. I'm guessing that this is what's going to pass for a central conflict, since we only have one chapter left (Thank God!).
“We’re going after him,” she called over her shoulder as she turned onto the thoroughfare.
Quickening his pace, he reached forward and grabbed her upper arm. She spun around and glared mutinously at him. Somehow, he knew that this would be his last chance to argue and he sighed.
“That’s not your decision to make.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” she replied through her teeth.
“Hermione, I really think you should leave this up to some of the older members.”
“That’s bullocks and you know it, Ron,” she hissed, thrusting her finger into his anus chest. “I’m going after him, because he’s my best friend and I don’t need your permission or your company. I will be just fine without you.”
“Don’t be daft,” he said, changing tactics and putting on a more casual air. “I’ll not let you go off on some dangerous mission without me. We’ll talk to Remus; we’ll get what we need.”
She didn’t buy his complacent tone but didn’t argue further. Turning on her heel, she started back towards the vampires’ castle.
They make some plans or something, but they don't know where the castle is.
“You’re very rude when you’re under pressure. There’s a doorbell, or you could even knock,” he said, trying to keep his tone light as he smiled slightly.
Hermione burst into tears.
“Merlin, Hermione, what’s wrong?” he asked as he rushed to her, gathering her into a tight hug.
“This is entirely my fault, Ron, all of it. I should never have published that paper and now Harry and Andie are gone and I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t get them back.” Wah wah. CRY HARDER, BITCH. I ENJOY YOUR MISFORTUNE GREATLY. She cried, the words rushing out and tumbling over each other. Her shoulders hitched against him as she began to sob harder.
Bewildered, Ron rubbed her back gently, making small shushing sounds. “It’s ok, Hermione. This isn’t your fault.”
Sadly, they do not take this opportunity to realize they love each other and restore canon.
***
I'm not sure why they keep making plans if they don't even know where Harry is.
“Sit.” Lilith commanded and jolted her finger at Hermione. Stunned at the pressure on her shoulders, she did as told.
“Have you come to any conclusions?” the vampire asked as she examined the long red fingernails on her left hand. A vampire painting her nails red? How unimaginative.
“About what?” Hermione asked, looking quizzically at Lilith.
“About why your lover was taken?”
Hermione hesitated. She had a few theories, but was unsure how much she should share. Realizing that the pressure on her shoulders had been lifted, she stood and turned back towards the fireplace and jumped into the flames to escape from the fic.
“I understand your hesitation, Hermione Granger. Caution is a strong trait.”
“They want something only Harry can give,” she said finally. “I’m not sure what that is, though.”
“Maybe it is not for you to know yet.”
“I don’t think the ‘what’ is important. He’s been taken and I will find him by whatever means necessary,” she replied, finally turning around and resuming her seat in one of the chairs across from the large desk. She held her shoulders erect Heh. Yes, I am secretly ten. and met the vampire’s level gaze with one of her own.
Lilith regarded her for several moments before making a small waving motion at the door to the right of her desk. Within seconds, it opened and a tall, dark-haired vampire walked in. He bowed gently to his mistress and waited at the corner of her desk.
“Hadrian, bring Petrescu. And the tools.” Hermione tried to keep her breath steady as Lilith took off her clothes spoke. Her chance had finally arrived.
Wordlessly, Hadrian left the room. In took several minutes, but he eventually returned with Olivia Petrescu and a small black box floating behind him. The petite form of the traitorous witch looked emaciated. The bruises and cuts over her body were evidence of torture; Hermione knew from her research that vampires did not use magic for punishment. They were artists of the medieval trade. WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH YOU PEOPLE AND YOUR TORTURE FETISH. WIZARDS HAVE SPELLS TO INFLICT MORE PAIN THAN ANY TORTURE DEVICE COULD.
Lilith eyed the witch for a few moments before a sly, nearly evil grin spread across her face. She walked over to Olivia and lifted her head from her chest. Hermione saw Olivia’s brown eyes swivel before focusing on Lilith’s face.
“Do not hesitate to break her,” Lilith said, speaking to Hermione but staring at Olivia.
Hermione did not answer, fearing that her voice would betray her deep-seated unease with the situation. She took another deep breath, going over each step of the plan, before she flicked her wand once to release the bonds that held Olivia. Another flick and she was seated in a hard-backed wooden chair. The entire room was silent, filled thick with honey tension. Hermione turned her back on Olivia and nodded once to Lilith and Hadrian. Wordlessly, they left to prepare the Comfy Chair.
As soon as Lilith had exited the room, Olivia stretched her bruised and beaten face into a thin smile.
“I’d like to see you try. I’ve heard so much about you, Granger. A very dear friend of my mother’s had fought you many times in battle and I know that even in the end, you could not kill her. Your little boyfriend had to do the dirty work for you.” Meh. I don't know about that. Hermione can be pretty ruthless, and I can believe that she would kill someone if she had to. Torture? HELL NO.
Hermione felt white hot angering Angering? surging through her, but miraculously she kept her face still. Counting to ten, she took another deep breath and forced herself to concentrate, to compartmentalize, to shut down C-C-C-C-OMBO BREAKER!. She began waving her wand, looping fresh rope over Petrescu’s arms and legs. She watched as the sinewy magical rope tightened and snaked through her subject’s limbs. As it finished, she hesitated as to whether or not to gag Olivia, but decided against it. It would rob her of any chance to speak before they commenced their work.
“You were her special little pet. Her little fetish. Potter belonged to the Dark Lord, but you were to be hers.” WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK IS THIS?
Hermione began rearranging the objects on the table next to her, attempting to reign in her temper and focus on her objective. She concentrated on her tools and felt a strange sort of déjà vu settle over her. They had come across several people in their hunts for the horcruxes that needed some persuasion to guide the trio in their quest. No. Just no. She had become a master at administering veritaserum and knew precisely what questions to ask to get the information she needed. When required, she could completely compartmentalize all of her emotions and focus solely on the task at hand. Her table was well laid out: there was a vial of the truth potion, a small talisman that simply looked devilish and nasty, but was really only a fancy lie-detector, and a jar of pain potion. There was also a small dagger, well-polished and impossibly sharp. She had found, in her handful of personal experience, that these tools were rarely used. They were props, though effective ones. The real tools were her mind and her force of will. Why is it that the authors who idolize Hermione seem to have ZERO grasp of her character? It's the same with the crazy Snapefen.
She had taught herself to be a Legilimens, and she had aided Harry to become a master Occlumens. Yeah...Harry didn't do too well with that whole Occlumency thing. Its use in interrogation had been a side-benefit that she had not counted on. REALLY? YOU DIDN'T COUNT ON LEGILIMENCY BEING HELPFUL IN INTERROGATION? WHAT, YOU JUST THOUGHT IT WAS A FUN PARTY TRICK? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?
She turned again towards Olivia and cocked her head slightly, waiting.
“She never did get to you. But she found your father easily enough,” Olivia said slowly, her voice proud and her face blatantly displaying a smirk. “He begged to be killed so that he would have no part in this story.”
No response came from Hermione. She merely stood, her fingers clasping her wand loosely in front of her, and looked down at Petrescu.
Olivia laughed harshly. “I always heard you were a cold bitch. Does it not bother you? Does it not get under your skin? Your father begged for his life because you were too uncaring to keep him safe.”
Hermione cocked her head to the side She already cocked her head. What, is she just standing there and tilting her head left and right? and tapped her wand twice against the palm of her hand.
Olivia growled lowly and began to struggle against her bonds. She was glaring at Hermione now, her eyes flashing wildly. The look of superiority was gone from her eyes and all Hermione could see was pure animalistic fear. So...she's terrified of Hermione because she didn't respond to taunting? Well, excuse me, because I'm off to terrorize the world!
In a flash, Hermione had her wand at Olivia’s throat. She looked into the other witch’s eyes and smiled wickedly, knowing that she now had full control of the situation. She had waited and baited the other witch. Her silence and non-reaction had dealt a heavy blow to Petrescu’s confidence and it was the perfect time for femmeslash to strike. Swiftly and silently, she cast the necessary charm and found herself glancing carefully, as if through a pensieve, at the blank mind of her subject.
Without hesitation, Hermione pooled her focus and shoved through the blockade. Wow, that sounded INCREDIBLY dirty. Olivia’s thoughts had the strange and scattered organization of a madwoman. Hermione pushed forward, looking deeper, looking for the pain and the secrets.
Going farther back, she felt suddenly as if she’d hit a wall. And just when I thought it couldn't get any filthier... All around her was simply blackness, silent and endless. She had hit her mark; this was the mind of a person so mentally and emotionally damaged that her mind had fractured, concealing many of its worst secrets. In the background, beyond the fog of the mind/body barrier, she heard Olivia scream as she gathered her will and shoved through the darkness. Blah blah blah. The unintentional innuendo continues and Hermione finally discovers where Harry is.
In a single motion, Hermione pulled herself from the mind of Olivia and stepped back to look at her. I have no words. I can't believe that all this sexual imagery isn't deliberate.
Olivia was crying and mouthing silent words. She swayed her body wildly, tugging at her ropes and taking deep, raspy breaths. Hermione watched, emotionless. She would celebrate the knowledge of finding Harry later. She waited as Olivia’s breathing slowed some and her body stopping pitched back and forth. There was a sharp intake of breath and Petrescu lifted her head to glare.
“Go to hell.”
Hermione smirked. “I’ll see you there.” And again, she allowed herself to venture into the mind of the traitor, reaching back as far as she dared, digging, searching. When she found what she was looking for, she pulled a single image, of a father, taking what was never his to have.
The tug and push firmly ejected her from her wanderings and she walked away from the chair, knowing that the price she would pay for this would be worth it. This is just...what the hell...THIS IS NOT HERMIONE.
Still, as she walked down the hall from Lilith’s office, she stopped in a small water closet and slammed the door shut behind her. She felt a wave of guilt crash over her and vomited neatly into the toilet bowl. Ah yes. Hermione is so perfect that even her puking is neat! I hate you, Suethor.
***
Blah blah blah. They continue making nebulous plans, and Hermione continues to act completely out of character. She tells Ron that she has to go first because if they can't rescue Harry, her life will be meaningless without him. Great. Shades of Bella Swan.
***
Harry is in a dungeon with Andie and Draco. Magic doesn't work there (no doubt for some bullshit reason). Draco's characterization is straight out of the Draco Trilogy.
***
Harry wants to go on a hunger strike or something. He also has a shitfit when Draco dares to speak of the wonderful Suemione.
***
Harry has a weird dream/flashback that's really just an excuse for him to gush about how much he loves Hermione and she is so beautiful. It's so touching that I think I may vomit.
***
Harry’s eyes snapped open and he looked around his cell. He had awoken that day in Snape’s potions dungeons, confused. His head was filled with odd images of his mother and Ron… and something else that he couldn’t place his finger on. Snape was wearing a very worried expression, but remained silent about what had happened to Harry. Their lessons ended after that and it wasn’t long before they fought Voldemort in the graveyard.
Now, however, he could remember everything. His words with his mother and Dumbledore. He felt Ron’s loyalty. He felt Hermione’s encompassing love, which was slightly sticky.
He understood finally, what Dumbledore had been saying all those years ago. Love was his most powerful weapon, now that the last puzzle piece had fallen into place. Hermione, he knew, without a doubt, was on her way to rescue him. She wasn’t coming out of loyalty or friendship; she was coming because she loved him. So if she had come out of friendship, it would be bad? Romantic love wasn't the love that saved Harry in canon--it was self-sacrificing love. Why do Suethors consistently miss the point?
***
Hermione flipped the small coin-like talisman in her fingers. Oh no! She's turning into Harvey Dent! The other teams were gathered behind her, waiting for her lead.
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tapped the talisman with her wand.
It was not unlike Apparating, but she felt as if there was something else as she traveled to the Unplottable castle. An extra little squeeze to her boobs or something, though she couldn’t properly put her finger on it. She alighted on top of a tall hill overlooking a green, wild-flower filled valley. Wherever she was, it was broad daylight, which she knew would work to their disadvantage.
Lying down in the grass, she soon discovered that she had landed right on a cow pie edged across the top of the hill to get a better view of the valley. The castle loomed over everything, casting a dark shadow and looking oddly out of place. She took out a small pair of omniculars and scanned the ledges of the castle wall. Counting quietly under her breath, she noted the six sentries stationed at various points. They were oddly positioned however; three of the wizards were stationed closest to a lone tower at the farthest end of the plaza.
Blah blah. The rest of the rescue team arrives.
“What’s our position?” Remus asked quietly, looking out over the valley.
“Reverse cowgirl, of course! Six stationed on the walls, no one else is visible. Tracing spells show no activity,” Hermione replied.
“Are we still using the same point of entry?” Ron asked. Heh. Seriously, this story is really dirty.
“Yes. The southern entrance to the cellar is actually in the plaza, opposite that large tower. There’s an entrance in the walls on that side as well.”
“I can’t believe we’re going to stroll right through the front door,” Ron replied.
“We aren’t,” Hermione answered. “We're going to use the backdoor, of course! It's a tighter fit, but I thought a change of pace would be nice. I’m going to go through, get to the dungeons, and then bring you in.”
Blah blah blah. They reach the captives, and everything seems to be going fine. Not that I'm surprised.
Malfoy shot him a deadly glare and Hermione couldn’t help but smile. Draco Malfoy was exactly as she remembered him. Smart, witty and easily the biggest arsehole she’d ever met. No. That's not Draco. He's not particularly smart or witty, and he's a bigoted doucheface. He was a pompous pain and knew it.
They start to leave, but Hermione suspects that something is wrong!
The room on the other side of the door was obviously some sort of lab, and a very large one at that. It was a windowless room; Hermione could barely make out the closest row of cabinets in the light streaming in from the hall.
They all stepped in the room, shoulder to shoulder, wands out. Hermione was not surprised when the large doors slammed behind them; Harry had separated the rest of the team for a reason.
As the doors slammed, a hundred torches burst to light on the walls and the air filled with the sounds of dozens of pops. Someone was making popcorn! Eeeeeeeevil popcorn! She saw the forms of black-clad figures materialize around the room and released that they were completely surrounded. A figure near the center of the group stepped forward and slid his hood away.
“My father was right you know. He said that your friends would come after you without hesitation, Potter.”
At that precise moment, Ginny Weasley fainted dead away. Ginny? Faint? I don't think so. In near perfect choreography, Harry began to dance Swan Lake used the distraction to toss a hex at Tynan Lahey while Draco Malfoy rushed forward and caught Ginny, pulling her into his arms with shocking tenderness. Seriously? You're going to pull Draco/Ginny OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE?
Chapter X ~ Table of Contents ~ Chapter XII