CHAPTER XX

- Zabini Manor -

A feral grin stretched its way across Hermione's face. He was here. Soon it would all end. Soon she would have her revenge, no matter what her friends and the her brot...the Zabini's…tried to persuade her otherwise. Soon she would be free. She found herself pausing though, her charm going off, and then again. He hadn't come alone. Had he brought his fellow Death Eaters along as backup? She was sure there had to be plenty more still living out there free, free with the knowledge that the wizarding world didn't even know that they were Death Eaters. The sound of manic laughter and footsteps echoed down the entrance hallway. She raised her wand at the ready, spells hovering on her lips ready to release a spell on whatever friends he had chosen to bring.

Her eyes glowered with anger at the familiar sight of the dark robes and Death Eater mask stepping into the lounge and kitchen area. How dare they step foot inside this house. Oh how she hated them, hated everything they stood for, and everything they murdered for.

Without even giving them a chance, she shouted "Acidumsempra!" as soon as two of the three had come into the line of fire. She cast the spell again, briefly watching with satisfaction, as the two closest, nameless Death Eaters dropped to the ground. Where the spell had hit them in the chest directly over their hearts, large welts began forming. They convulsed in agony as the spell worked its magic. It was a dark spell and like Sectumsempra was incredibly useful. Where the spell hit, the target would be inflicting by acid that would burn away, flesh, bone, everything in its path. A couple of years ago when she had first discovered the spell by accident in one of her advanced reading books, a dusty tome forgotten in the far reaches of the Hogwarts library, she never would have dreamed to dare to use it. But she had now, and soon the spell would burn through to their heart and then it would be all over for the Death Eaters, however in the meantime they would be in agony, as they deserved to be.

From the corner of her eye, she could see her friends watching on in surprise, and horror from the safety of her shields. Though Harry, Ron and Draco where busily throwing their magic against her shield in an effort to break through it. And she knew they would soon. She had opted to go with a really simple spell that was easily broken, knowing they would never think she would use it. They would be desperately trying to unravel what they figured was a much more advanced spell, and she was counting on that to buy her more time. She hadn't really seen the Zabini's in action, but everyone else where really skilled and capable wizards, especially Harry and Draco. She was certain that out of the six of them, it would be Harry or Draco to break through her charm first. A gamble she hoped paid off. They meant well, but she couldn't let them get in her way.

She moved just in time, as a shot of red light darted past her, undoubtedly the cruciatus curse. She raised a shield spell, as another spell darted towards her. Releasing the spell as quickly as she raised it, she cast curse she used earlier again, and the third Death Eater went down. His screams echoing in the room, only to be cut off by the sound of clapping and the return of the manic laughter.

Her eyes locked onto Rabastan Lestrange's, his glittered with mirth as if he knew something she didn't. He was playing with her, and that pissed her right off. It was she who was meant to be toying with him. It's why she had made the Inferi. She couldn't believe she had almost forgotten it was there, waiting to be commanded, and she was thankful it had chosen to stand by the couch, its height blocking the creature from view from the position Lestrange was standing in.

"Oh Granger…" he purred at her, "how you do give me the sweetest pleasures in life."

She raised her wand at him, but didn't attack, his words confusing her. Whilst Death Eater's didn't typically care for the life of others much, she couldn't understand why he was so pleased that she had just take out, and rather brutally, three of his friends.

"So eager for me to die. I taste your anger, you hatred, and its breath taking. You hate me so much that you don't even question who I brought along with me." She frowned, at his grin, but said nothing and he continued on. "The dark scary Death Eaters, coming to kill the mudblood. In her righteous way she strikes them down, without hesitation. Oh Granger, I didn't bring any friends with me. The Death Eaters I associated with are either long dead or rotting in Azkaban. The ones remaining weren't Voldemort's true followers. They mean nothing. I wouldn't reach out to them. But I could not resist taunting you, one last time."

Something very wrong was happening. She didn't know what, but she could feel it. Lestrange was way too happy, to gleeful, and as he stepped closer to the bodies he claimed not to be friends, she found herself instinctively taking a step back. She watched scared, a familiar feeling this man seemed to insight in her, as he removed the masks from each of their faces. They were surprisingly normal faces, despite the expressions detailing a cruel demise. They weren't faces like Bellatrix or Greyback, that screamed messed up, that screamed Death Eater, that screamed evil.

As if he sensed where her thoughts were heading, he continued. "Oh that's right Hermione, don't they look positively mundane? Oh wait," he giggled, "that's because they are. You just tortured and killed three muggles without even blinking an eye. I'm so proud of you. You thought they were Death Eaters coming for you. No merely muggles, under the Imperius curse, led to slaughter. Your slaughter."

She felt her body constrict, tears forming, and she tried so hard to grasp at logic, logic she prized but she couldn't reach it. It was so far away from her grasp. All she could do was stare at the three lifeless faces. Faces that she had killed so callously, and had been so proud of moments before. Oh god. What had she done? She knew her friends were going to be disappointed with her, but what would they think of her now? How would her parents feel? She was just as bad as him. She was a monster. He had brought people here for her to slaughter, and she fallen into his trap so easily.

Hermione was so traumatized by the news that she had lost track of Lestrange and didn't notice until it was too late and he walked right up beside her. She found herself in his tight grip, putting pressure on her hands until she was forced to drop her wand to relieve the pain.

He bent over her shoulder whispering in her ear, just like he had a month ago. "Isn't it, beautiful…what your capable of? Such power. Such passion. You dispatched of them like they were nothing. How does it feel to stare at the face of everything you fought to save, knowing that you are now officially a Death Eater. A muggle killer."

She didn't know if it was anger, if it was despair, hatred or agony. Maybe it was a combination of both, of the affect of his words, his actions and his touch that made her feel repulsed. All she knew was that she had lost control. She had lost control of the situation, and herself. She couldn't feel anything anymore, she felt distant, like she was observing, not like she was actually in control of her actions. She felt her magic snap inside, pouring out in a torrent. The inferi, Rodolphus, seemed to wake at it. It charged, attacking his brother, freeing her from Rabastan's grasp. Only she wasn't free. She felt even more trapped. She would show him power, he would understand and die. Her magic still tainted by the dark magic she had used to create her first inferi wrapped around the dead bodies, without a thought, without her permission. She would be the monster if it meant killing him. She watched as he realized what exactly he was facing, and who it had once been.

Hermione wanted to smile, but couldn't. How could she? How could she be happy with anything that had happened? All she had wanted was to destroy Lestrange, if she had to take other Death Eaters out in the process good riddance. But killing innocents had never been on the agenda, and never been something she thought she would ever had done. Everything had gone so wrong, so consumed, just like Harry had tried to warn her but she hadn't listened. Just like her body wasn't listening to Celso's words not to let the dark magic consume it. And it was. She could feel her magic hungry for the new three inferi it was trying to make in a hurry. She needed to let go, but she didn't know how. Celso's words echoed loudly in her head.

I felt myself dying a little more each day. I dreaded the day that the feeling would cease, because I knew then that it wouldn't matter to me anymore, I'd do all the dark things and not care. I wouldn't enjoy, but I wouldn't care and that's not really any better.

She was becoming just like he had afraid to become himself. She had ignored the advice, and now it was potentially too late. She barely could remember feeling anything other than this chaotic maelstrom of pain. She had to remember how to feel something pure, or risk never feeling it again.

She tried to push past the darkness spreading in her, which just made the feeling all the more oppressive. It was so hard, the darkness taunting at her, it would be so much better this way. No pain, no nothing, just power. But there had been a time when power didn't matter, when she relied on friendships and knowledge as strength. She remembered when she had been crying in the girl's lavatory back in first year, when the troll had attacked. Harry and Ron had come looking for her, had saved her. She had read everything she could about the wizarding world, to fit in, but it was that same curiosity and knowledge that ostracized her. But they had come for her, and the first time she had felt real friendship.

Hermione drew upon that memory, the beginning of a friendship destined to last a lifetime. Then slowly, she had become friends with Ginny, a different friendship to what she had with Harry and Ron, but it was refreshing. She used that to push the darkness back a little more. That's all she had needed to fight off the Death Eater's back then, and it should be all she needed now. She remembered feeling proud of Celso Zabini at his trial, as he laid out everything he had done and in doing so showing he had not let it define he. She drew upon the brief flicker of happiness that she had felt with Celso and Blaise had she was family. She wouldn't replace her parents, but after the pain she couldn't deny the thought of having a new family didn't illicit hope within her, but she had pushed that aside, fear controlling her. She ignored the fear, focusing on that small brief bit of hope. Then there was Draco, the man who growing up had been nothing but cruel to her, had told her that she wasn't worth the dirt on his shoes, was the man who taught her that she was worth something. To not let anyone tell her otherwise, and never settle for anything less. An irony that wasn't lost on her to this day.

Hermione used their one night of passion, to cage the last of darkness in a corner, her body feeling more like it was hers rather than a separate entity. She could feel the magic surging around her and let it go. Let it drop, fading out into nothingness. The three bodies slumping back down before they could become something more than death. Whilst it felt like an eternity for her trapped in her own thoughts, it couldn't have been too long, because Rabastan had only just got the inferi Rodolphus off him.

He raised his wand, barking "Incendio!" before turning his hate filled eyes at her, not evening pausing to stop and watch as the inferi screeched in pain, burning into nothingness.

Oh yes, her plan had worked too. She had gotten under his skin, just as he had hers, but it was too late. She didn't care. She just wanted to finish things, to move on, and leave this horror behind her. Though after what she had committed she doubted she would. Three things happened simultaneously, Rabastan started to yell at her, her friends breaking through her charm, whilst she picked up her wand from the floor and whispered, "Avada Kedavra".

She collapsed to the floor the weight of her actions overpowering her strength to stand, as Rabastan Lestrange did as well, though he was dead. It was a quick, painless death. Everything she hadn't wanted for him, but had truthfully needed for herself. Harry was the first to rush over to her, and she found herself wrapped in his arms. She couldn't control the tears that came.

"What have I done?" She croaked out, into his shoulder.

Author's Note:

Well there it was. Believe or not, I didn't intend to torment Hermione again like this, it was just going to be a straight out battle between her and Lestrange, but sometimes stories have a life of their own…

I made up the spell "acidumsempra". There were a couple of curses that have "sempra" in it so I added the latin word for acid. Doesn't really roll of your tongue, but oh well.

I always thought Harry, Hermione, Draco and Ginny would make such good dark witches and wizards, if they truly applied themselves to the art. Wouldn't that have been an interesting story if J.K. Rowling had of pursued that, or perhaps that's just my twisted thinking. =)

I'm writing the next chapter, a continuation of this, now. If I get it finished tonight I'll publish, otherwise I will publish hopefully in the next couple of days.

Hope you enjoyed, until next time.