Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, would I be writing fanfiction?

AN: Many thanks to my betas, septentrion and LadySunflower.

Concealed by a Disillusionment Charm, I watched from the shadows as the assembled Aurors collected Lord Voldemort's corpse and Disapparated. I presume that they were afraid that I'd show up and kill them for daring to execute 'Voldemort'.

Little did they know, they had actually done me a favour. The Muggle soul I had transferred into Voldemort's body had rapidly come to the stage where he fancied himself in love with me. He'd become clingy...an obstruction to my plans. He'd served his purpose, too. If push came to shove and I had need of the same thing again, I could repeat the process.

However, I couldn't let them think that they could get away with killing someone who had been under my protection, particularly when I had recovered from my exertions in the week I'd laid low. That and my Muggle-in-Voldemort was good enough in bed for me to regard his death as a waste. I had been intending to switch him back into his own body and Obliviate him using my new wand. Not that I really needed an excuse to attack my next target; it was the next logical step....

Bold as brass, my Disillusionment Charm removed, I entered the Ministry building through the visitor's entrance, pinning the badge produced by the automated system onto my robes with tongue firmly in cheek: Jane, Pest Control. Obviously not the whole truth, but no lies were detected preventing me from entering. Giving my full birth name or my assumed name would have risked bringing down everything the Ministry could throw at me, provided that they were sensible enough to class even deceased people as high risk in their security system.

I sauntered over to the wand registration desk, my week-old 'purchase' in hand. The surly Ministry employee didn't even bother to look up, missing the fact that the business end of my wand was aimed directly between his eyes. He opened his mouth, doubtless to demand I hand over my wand, only to gasp his last breath instead, slumping down onto the desk.

It was laughable that no one had noticed that something was wrong. Granted, I hadn't used the Killing Curse with its distinctive green flash, but any usage of a Dark curse within this building should set alarms screaming if anyone competent was employed.

Stepping into the lift conveniently situated on the same floor as the Atrium, I sent it to the Minister's office. The workers stepping on and off the lift with each floor ignored me, the most alert just giving my nametag a cursory glance before looking up to observe the convoluted flight of the enchanted memos.

At my destination, the Minister's vapid secretary informed me that he was in an important meeting. Apparently, if I wished to see him, I would have to make an appointment.

"I'm here on behalf of someone else. A surprise for the Minister." I winked at the secretary, who stared blankly at me for a moment before almost squealing and waving me in, after sending a memo ahead of me. I had timed my visit well. It was Minister Scrimgeour's birthday, allowing unannounced expressly surprise guests access where on an ordinary day it would have been forbidden.

Inside his opulent office, Scrimgeour was speaking with two Aurors I recognised from my first visit to the Ministry: Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt, whose full names I had made sure to learn; I made a point of learning about my enemies.

Scrimgeour glowered at me over his spectacles, his bushy eyebrows lowered. A moment later those brows lifted as his eyes widened. To complete the comical picture he presented, his face paled to the skin tone of an anaemic vampire.

At the same time, Tonks and Shacklebolt twisted around to face me. The former mouthed 'Hermione' questioningly at me, before she too paled, comprehending which Necromancer was far more likely to have waltzed right into the Minister's office.

All three snatched their wands into their hands with commendable reflexes. Tonks immediately produced what I presume was her Patronus, a silver wolf bounding straight through the wall. I let it go, grimly anticipating the arrival of the cavalry. All the more for me to reap....

'Expelliarmus.' My non-verbal command had their wands scattered on the floor behind me before any offensive spells could be cast. Tonks lunged at me, fists flying, displaying her part-Muggle roots. While my mind was my most formidable weapon, I wasn't lacking when it came to physical fighting skills, as Tonks found to her terminal detriment. As a Necromancer, I can detect other people's heartbeats without being in contact with them. This allowed me to relatively easily land a killing blow to the rash, unfortunate Tonks, causing a cardiac arrest. Perhaps she would have survived if someone gave her prompt medical aid, but I was hardly going to allow that to happen. Not when she had been one of the Aurors daring to kill 'Voldemort'.

"Tonks!" Shacklebolt roared, before grabbing the nearest chair and hurling it in my direction in a display of brute strength. I rolled my eyes as I used a Banishing Charm to send it straight back at him, sending him crashing to the floor in a bone-shattering crash.

"Now, Minister, I told your secretary the truth when I said that I was here on the behalf of another."

After watching me take out two of his best Aurors, Scrimgeour made no ill-advised attempt to attack me. He held his head high, fists tightly clenched, but his shaking knees betrayed his fear.

"We executed your precious Dark Lord. After all the deaths he caused, there is no justification for seeking revenge."

I chuckled darkly, shaking my head in disbelief. He actually thought that Voldemort had killed many? If he knew how many I've killed in my time, he'd be wishing that the late Dark Lord was wreaking havoc in my place. "My dear Minister, I could claim that I'm after vengeance, but that wouldn't be entirely true. Nor would I need justification, either, if it was the case."

"Th-then upon whose behalf are you here?" Scrimgeour sputtered.

"You'll very soon meet him," I promised, gathering my power into a superheated spark before casually flicking it at Scrimgeour.

"Right about now, in fact," I murmured as his scream trailed off into a dry rasp. "Rufus Scrimgeour, meet Death."

I don't remember much of the next minute or so, because I allowed myself to slip into the consuming haze of a berserker rage. Any user of Dark magic can succumb to one if they're not careful. For anyone other than a Necromancer, the personal consequences of one far outweigh the benefits. Granted, it's impossible to be harmed whilst in one. But after the rage has passed, the former berserker is left more defenceless than the average Muggle in the time it takes to recover. A situation like that can be fatal, even to a Necromancer.

However, Necromancer or not, I'm still human. In order to manage to kill so many without feeling so much as a twinge of remorse, I needed to disconnect myself from reality. What better way than to allow the beast within to surface?

Looking around from my position kneeling on the floor of the Atrium, I blinked away the last of the daze left by the fury possessing me. I was surrounded by bodies sprawled on the floor, the fountain running red with blood. I eyed the gory sight dispassionately. I'd seen worse. Hell, I'd caused worse.

My reflexes may have been somewhat dulled by the rigours of the blood-soaked rage, but that didn't stop me from reaching up to snatch a beetle out of the air as it whizzed past, intent on escape. A very familiar beetle....

"I know just what to do with you," I whispered, smiling down at the struggling insect.

"What I don't understand is why he didn't attack..."

I had been listening to a grimly triumphant Harry describing Voldemort's third downfall when a corporeal Patronus burst out of the fireplace, using a new discovery by the Unspeakables that allowed a Patronus to travel through the Floo network with no need for Floo powder.

Remus Lupin leapt to his feet at the sight of the silver wolf, his chair falling to the tiled floor with a clatter. He was reaching for it as it ran over to him in order to take the message when it abruptly faded into silver mist.

"'Dora?" Lupin whispered, looking as though he'd been struck.

Dumbledore placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. "There is only one thing that can interrupt a Patronus, I'm afraid."

"The death of the caster?" Harry queried, swallowing hard when Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Remus, I'm so sorry."

"We don't even know where she is – was," Remus all but howled, pounding a clenched fist against the table, his body trembling.

"Tonks was with me when we found Voldemort. Atropos must be out for revenge – this is all my..."

Harry's words trailed off, although I could tell that he was still speaking. I could hear nothing but a ringing in my ears coupled with distant screams. I shook my head in an attempt to clear it, dropping my head into my hands when I felt faint, nausea rising inside me as the screams grew either louder or more numerous. Possibly both.

Eventually I had to cut myself off from my Necromantic powers as best as I could to avoid blacking out, eyes tightly shut to keep the table from swimming.

"...mione, it's not your fault. Hermione!" Gradually, I became aware of Severus on one side of me and Minerva on the other, both leaning over me in their concern.

"I know," I rasped, feeling parched although I'd recently finished a cup of Minerva's finest tea. "I just felt a lot of people die."

"Any idea where?"

"Not really. Somewhere," I waved vaguely behind me, "in that sort of direction."

"Can you tell whether it was wizards or Muggles being killed?" Ron asked from across the table.

"I could only hear their screams, not any other details," I said slowly, rubbing the bridge of my nose in an attempt to clear my head somehow. My thoughts were sluggish; it felt like the gears inside my head were smothered in rust.

The feeling gradually passed, but before it did, whatever it was affecting me weakened my Occlumency shields sufficiently for Atropos's mind to touch mine. She didn't seem to be aware of the mental contact this time as her own Occlumency skills were also affected, presumably by whatever it was she'd been doing.

I kept the contact up long enough to ascertain where she was before Occluding. That short glimpse into my other self left me feeling shaken to the core, and I hadn't even intruded deeply enough to find out exactly what she was doing, not that I really needed to as it involved killing in some way. Looking around at the others, they were watching me in varying degrees of concern and bafflement.

"What do you mean by that, lass?" Moody asked from the corner, both eyes fixed on me.

Thinking back to what I had last said, I frowned, wondering what about it was so difficult for them to understand. "Wizards don't sound any different to Muggles when they die. But there's more important things...What? Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Hermione," said Severus, pitched just for my ears, "the last thing you said was: 'I know just what to do with you,'"

I think I know exactly who really said that, and the fact that it slipped through my lips too was... not good. Glancing around, I could tell that they thought I was losing it. They were quite possibly right, too, but there were more important things to deal with.

"I know where Atropos is. She's at the Ministry."

"Oh, dear Merlin, no. We have to stop her!" cried Minerva.

I couldn't meet any of their eyes. Not even Severus's. I didn't have the heart to tell them that it was probably too late. From what I had guessed from touching Atropos's mind, there was a high body count already.

Moments later, we had arrived in the Atrium using a newly made illicit Portkey courtesy of Dumbledore.

His magical eye riveted on where Atropos was picking her path through the bodies between her and the fireplaces, Moody levelled his wand.

"No!" Severus yelled, held back by Lupin, his wand snatched away from him. Dumbledore echoed my husband, only to discover that Moody had confiscated his wand.

So this was what Moody and Lupin had been arguing about. Obviously the death of Tonks had convinced Lupin that Atropos had to die whatever the cost.

Atropos turned her head, raising an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. Something was wrong here, but what? The smirk slipping across my – her – face triggered a memory deep in my mind from two sources: The Book and a more ordinary Dark Arts manual, concerning...

"Don't!" I screamed. "She's got a..."

Moody ignored me, launching his curse non-verbally. Atropos made no attempt to block it, her wand out of sight, presumably in her robes. The curse struck her throat in an angry red flash. Even as she staggered back, tripping over the nearest body to land on top of another, I was forced to my knees, clutching at my own throat, gasping for breath. It felt like my air pipe had been severed....

In a nauseating rush of Dark energy, Moody's curse returned to the caster. He successfully blocked the lethal spell from Atropos's direction, but he didn't anticipate an additional burst being returned from me.

For a moment, Moody just stood there. Then he toppled over, his head rolling from his shoulders when he hit the floor. Thankfully there was no blood, or I would have lost my lunch.

Struggling up into a sitting position, tracing a shallow cut across her neck, Atropos looked with grim satisfaction at Moody's body. Fingering the matching cut on my own throat, I swallowed. That could have been me....

Atropos must have enchanted herself so that any mortal blow would backfire, somehow modifying the more normal death curse used by vengeful Dark magicians with Necromantic powers so that she wouldn't die with the would-be killer. I had used a more advanced version of a death curse to transfer any damage from myself to Voldemort before I had atomised him... and myself.

"Alastor...." Lupin said hollowly, looking sickened.

Severus shrugged out of the appalled werewolf's slack grip, moving to pull me up from the floor. He wrapped an arm around my waist and another around my shoulders to hold me up, my knees threatening to buckle if too much weight was placed on them. Tightly pressed against my back, I could feel him trembling with suppressed emotion.

Dumbledore had his hand outstretched to wandlessly Summon his wand to him from Moody's corpse when Atropos performed the risky manoeuvre of Disapparating whilst not in a standing position. Her attack on the Ministry had obviously destroyed their Anti-Apparition wards in much the same way as Hogwarts'. If her physical state was anything like mine, I'm not surprised that she escaped whilst she still could.

Minerva, Harry and Ron's hexes struck the Ministry worker's body where she had been a split-second before, the concentrated cutting curses creating a gory sight that would have caused me to throw up if I'd been capable of summoning the energy to do so. As it was, I dry heaved, resolutely looking away.

If only Moody and Lupin had followed Dumbledore's plan, Atropos might have been captured. Yet in their place, I might have done the same thing. However, that didn't mean that I could forgive them. After seeing what my death did to Severus last time, I had no wish to put him through that again. He'd also made it quite clear to me that he didn't want me to die if I could possibly avoid it.

"We must search for survivors," Dumbledore ordered, giving Lupin a stern look. He obviously felt that watching Moody die made it pointless to reprimand the grieving werewolf. Hearing Severus's ragged breathing in my ear, I knew that he'd be having words with poor Lupin anyway.

"If there's any left." After the murders of his family, Ron had become quite pessimistic. I couldn't blame him, particularly when it was quite possibly the most realistic frame of mind around a Necromancer like Atropos.

"Hermione, I'm taking you to Poppy, at Grimmauld Place. Don't argue with me, you're in no shape to help here."

I twisted around in Severus's arms to glower up at him, only to bash my nose against his chest when one of my feet shot out from under me. Hanging on tightly to Severus, I waited until I was able to stand on admittedly shaky legs before turning to see what had tripped me. My sharp eyes picked out Moody's magical eye still rolling across the floor from where it had shot out from under my feet.

Growling under my breath, I turned back to Severus, pushing against his chest to get him to stand back so that I wouldn't get a crick in my neck whilst setting him straight.

"It's only phantom pain, I'm fine. Besides, Necromantic powers give me an edge none of the rest of you have when it comes to detecting the living and the dead."

"Hermione..."

"There's a time and place for being overprotective, Severus, and this isn't it," I hissed, conscious of the fact that this argument didn't need to be overheard by anyone else, although Lupin may well have been able to hear it due to more sensitive hearing from his lycanthropy.

Severus looked at me long and hard, his lips twisting in displeasure. "Very well. But I'm not letting you out of my reach, let alone out of my sight."

Even without the need for Severus's steadying grip on my elbow, his close presence was welcome in a place where I could feel so much death caused by someone who, for all intents and purposes, was me.

The most sensible thing to do would be to find anyone still alive and then begin to account for those who had died. We had just reached the lifts when my eyes were inexorably drawn to something just above the 'call' button. A beetle, pinned to the wall with what looked to be a broken hairpin. A beetle with some very familiar markings....

I choked, fighting back the bile rising in my throat. I wanted to turn away, but couldn't, my eyes transfixed to the mortal remains of Rita Skeeter's Animagus form.

"What's wr..." Harry started to ask, before inhaling sharply. "Is that who I think it is?"

"Horrible," Ron muttered from behind me, sounding as though he was about to be sick.

The ringing in my ears blocked everything else out. From the way my vision was threatening to fade out and the desperate need for air taking hold of me, I was hyperventilating.

Someone grabbed hold of my hands, bringing them and their own, larger hands, up to close over my nose and mouth, limiting my air intake. That same someone gently pushed me down to sit on the floor, crouching behind me. The attack gradually passed, allowing me to become aware of Harry filling Minerva, Dumbledore and Lupin in about Skeeter's secret. Severus – for it was of course him behind me – waited until my breathing returned to a more normal rate before taking his hands away from my face.

Minerva tugged the pin out of the beetle, gently lowering it to the floor out of our path and changing it back into Rita's human body, struggling against the rigor mortis to close Rita's glassy eyes, after removing her jewelled glasses.

After recovering my composure, I could tell that all survivors of the attack within the range of my powers had fled the building, leaving the dead behind. Except....

"There's a group of people still alive in the bowels of the building."

"Where?" asked Dumbledore.

"I don't...." I trailed off, staring into space as I realised that I actually could tell where they were. A room that seemed to call to me, muffled as it was by the death echoes resounding in the building. "They're in the Death Chamber."