Unjust Peace

AN No, I am not mega fast with updating. I just already have these chapters done.Cool, eh?

Chapter 4
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What the hell was that, Hermione thought, when the door behind the tall frame of the Dark Lord shut. She had insulted, ridiculed and mocked the Dark Lord: the one that was the ultimate power in this world. And yet, here she was, sitting on her rotten bed, shocked to the core, but all limbs attached and no "Crucio, Mudblood" heard. Why?

What was going on? What kind of riddle is this, and why the hell had she agreed to this game?

Truth to be told, she was more shocked with her own behavior, or better to say, her own acceptance of the reality, than the Dark Lord's offer. Sure, she had known that the fellow was heavily touched in the head, but come on … To play riddles with Harry Potter's mudblood?

At the thought of Harry, Hermione's heart clenched, and she shuddered, trying to push away the painful memories of Harry's defeat and his ultimate death.

She had to make herself busy with something - that was the way she had survived this whole year. Instead of thinking about what could have been or dreaming about her dear friends, Hermione would count the blocks on the dirty walls, clean the surface, or even count spiders in the back corner of the cell. Anything was better than memories.

And without knowing, Lord Voldemort had provided Hermione with additional, or better to say, a perfect way to escape her troubled mind. She would oppose him, and in the end, she would defeat him, even through the means of simple riddles.

Simple, my ass, Hermione thought, when she recalled the riddle Voldemort had given her.

It was almost midnight already and Hermione knew that the next day she would be cleaning the 4th and 5th floor, so she had to think fast: for Harry, for Ron, for everyone. Not only because she did want something good from Voldemort, it would certainly please her to see him give in, but also because she wanted to outsmart him, to show him that he was not the only one with brains.

Going back to the riddle…at that word, Hermione paused. She hated this word as it was very closely associated with the bastard. She preferred puzzle.

So, back to the puzzle. Hermione knew very well that it was not simply mathematics and just counting wouldn't help solving this puzzle. No, it was something else.

She could count the numbers, and then, she would have the answer. However…

Hermione made a mental list in her head that would help her to understand just how many right answers there were, as she had no doubt that this was the so called "test" puzzle where no difficult answer was to be given. This was the puzzle that would show Voldemort what she was really capable of.

Giving her best and collecting all the gathering thoughts, Hermione started counting the answers in order to select the correct one. Damn Voldemort had twisted the puzzle so there was no correct answer.

-Professor Dumbledore was dead, so there would be no one to listen to his speech during the welcoming feast.

-The puzzle itself was weird, even if you just counted - there should be more first years and second years, but in the puzzle, it was the other way.

-Since it was Voldemort and considering his hate towards Professor Dumbledore and Gryffindor in general, then only Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs would listen to the "stupid rambling" of the "mental" Headmaster.

- When was the Hogwarts Express going to Hogwarts? Voldemort didn't tell that it was the beginning of the year, so it may have been during the winter holidays, so there would be no Sorting Ceremony.

Groaning in frustration, Hermione Granger started to think that Voldemort decided to simply drive her crazy, so he wouldn't be alone in his "lala" land.

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Grinning in satisfaction, Lord Voldemort sent another wave of Crucio towards Bella. There really was no reason to do so, but since he was in such a good mood, he just had to share it with his loyal follower who screamed her satisfaction as loud as possible.

The Mudblood would surely give him the correct answer; he had no doubt about it. He was pretty sure that she was going to get it right, even though he himself did not know which of the answers was correct.

Listening to the wailing Bellatrix, Lord Voldemort smiled at his own great mind. Only he could make up a puzzle that had no right answer, but had many correct answers. Life was starting to get more interesting, he decided when Lucius Malfoy apparated into the main hall.

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Lucius Malfoy was enjoying supper with his wonderful wife, sitting in the richly decorated dining room of Malfoy Manor. The world was at his Lord's feet, and Lucius Malfoy greatly enjoyed his position as the current Minister of Magic of Great Britain. Each country had its own Minister of Magic who, then, had to report to the Head Minister of Magic who was, of course, Lord Voldemort.

Even thought Lucius really enjoyed the power he had, manipulating and ordering people around when he saw fit, it was a very tiresome job. You never knew what might cross his Lord's mind. He was really good at being a Minister of Magic, however, with a "boss" like his, it was never clear whether you' d get a "Job well done" or "Please enjoy some Crucio" instead.

So, when his Dark Mark started itching, Lucius Malfoy was not a very happy man.

After apparating to the main hall of Slytherin Manor, as the Dark Lord had ordered to call the former Azkaban prison, Malfoy Senior shuddered like he always did when he entered the dreadful place. Knowing his Lord's sadistic side, Lucius had no doubt that everything was always done on purpose. The Dark Lord could have chosen any property, not only in England but anywhere he wished, but no, he just had to choose that damn Azkaban as the headquarters for living and gatherings.

Malfoy smiled as he remembered the faces of other Ministers of Magic when they had to report to the Dark Lord in Azkaban and be in the near proximity of the dreadful wand that was always and constantly twirling between the fingers of the Dark Lord. And, of course, there were the Dementors that flew everywhere, happily chewing on everybody's mood.

Lucius hoped that his Lord was in good mood today, in really good mood.

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Lord Voldemort did not really know what the hell he called Lucius for. He was forced to wait, and he really hated waiting. It bored him out of his mind.

I should amend the rules, he thought, and give the mudblood less time. Yes, that was a really good idea, he thought, as he looked at the bowing Malfoy. He wanted to know all there was to know about the Granger girl.

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Slam!

What is it with the Slytherins and grand entrances, Hermione thought, looking at the towering Dark Lord.

"Evening, mudblood," disturbingly, even to himself, smiling Voldemort greeted Hermione who was sitting cross-legged on her wonderful bed.

How was she supposed to answer? Hello? Good evening, even if it wasn't? Or yo?

Instead, Hermione decided to just nod her head; he could think whatever he wanted of it.

She was so annoying, he thought, staring at the Mudblood who just nodded to him, as if he were some kind of a mere mortal. She will pay for that, he thought happily, adding one more point for punishment to his list. But he wanted the answer now, punishment could wait.

"And?"

"And, there are several answers with none of them being correct taking into account that you have not settled down the time and frame points," taking a deep breath, Hermione started to answer the question as annoyingly as possible, enjoying the mad glint in his eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore is dead, so no one will be there to listen to his speech anymore". Smart Mudblood.

"Why are there more second, third, fourth, fifth," at the counting his eye started to twitch, Hermione noted and happily continued, "sixth and seven year students than the first ones? That shouldn't be possible taking into account that students do not just appear from nowhere". He didn't think of that, but she didn't need to know it. Bitch.

"There was no Sorting ceremony; as maybe, Hogwarts Express was bringing the students back to school from Christmas holiday. It is a possibility as you have not, I repeat, have not specified the time and frame points". So what. He did not forget, he just didn't bother with small details.

"It may have been a long time ago when Professor Dumbledore was not a Headmaster yet, as, I repeat, you have no-," before Hermione could continue she was interrupted with his annoyed hissing.

"Yes, as I have not settled down the time and the frame points. Do not annoy me, Mudblood. Continue."

"Thank you," happy at being able to annoy him but angry at being interrupted, Hermione made a face that drove even Professor McGonagall mad and went on, as if the most dangerous wizard of all time hadn't just interrupted her. "As you haven't settled down the time and frame of the said ridicules riddle," at that Hermione glanced at the Dark Lord who was now really angry, "then the correct answer is: 'It depends'."

She really wanted to say "Fuck knows", but she never liked swearing, even thought this particular answer became Fred and George's favorite just before they died.

She was right, as he had guessed before. There simply was no answer, because it all depended on the time and frame of the riddle.

"All right, it seems that you do have some brains, Mudblood. I accept you answer; however, it is only partially correct. "Before Hermione decided to angrily interrupt and demand the explanation, the Dark Lord already had his wand out.

In a second's time, her cell was cleaned; her rotten cot was replaced with a nice but simple bed, and finally, she received a normal toilet.

She had won the first round, and the Dark Lord was actually keeping his word.

Slowly, the Dark Lord moved closer to Hermione, his dark green robes twirling around his feet like velvety fog, making him look even taller and more imposing if it was possible.

"You really want to play, don't you, Mudblood?" His creepy red eyes focused on Hermione's large ones.

Before she could answer, Lord Voldemort took her chin into his palm and sweetly smiled at her.

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He was scary, creepy, and crazy, Hermione thought, while looking into his eyes. She was not afraid of Legilimency as there was nothing special to look for in her memories, because really, what was there to see? Her cleaning the floors of Azkaban? Counting spiders?

His eyes held her captive for longer than she wanted, and then, she was suddenly released.

"You are a funny being, Mudblood. You amuse me, however, at the same time, you really annoy me. I see that you are not afraid, and this game of ours," at that his white bony wand made a full circle around her head, "is nothing more than amusement to you".

"It shouldn't be like that, as I am the only one who gets to be amused. You are here to provide amusement. Seeing that no physical punishment will make you bend to me, I shall, once again, amend the rules, so you wouldn't take it too lightly. You will not give me a riddle this time, as you don't take the game seriously enough".

"If you do not get the answer correct to the next riddle," at that he glanced at her now widened eyes meaningfully, "you will be moved to the chambers next to mine. I hope you understand what it may mean?"

No, no, no…She really liked her cell. It was comfortable and nice and had a beautiful view…No, no, no!

"This riddle is serious and has a correct answer. If you get it wrong, we'll be seeing each other much more often than you'd like. If you are correct, you may request whatever you want and I shall provide it to you if it is a sensible request, of course. You may also ask three questions to which the answer will be either yes or no."

Hermione had a very bad feeling about this. She did not need a crystal ball to know that she was in deep, deep shit now. There was no way he would give her something she could provide a correct answer to. Dammit.

"And here we go," clapping his hands happily, the Dark Lord smiled, swayed back and forth a bit, and quickly, said the riddle.

"Four windows: Two open, two reflecting.

All four can be removed. Two as usual, two not.

Two have been cleaned from inside, two from outside.

All four were removed and put back in random order. Nothing changed.

Two with three colors, two are not black and not white. All four are connected but not quite.

What am I talking about?"

'What the hell?' was all Hermione could think for a moment, but then, she needed think fast. "Is this a living thing?"

Good, Mudblood, good. "No".

Short and without emotions. He was giving her no clues whatsoever, arse. "Is it in this manor?"

Really good, Mudblood. No wonder you are the last one standing. "Yes".

Again, no emotion. "Have I seen it?"

He made the right choice. The Mudblood was worth his time. "Yesssss."

There we go, Hermione thought when some sort of emotion flickered in his eyes.

"Now, think". With that said, she was left alone again.

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